Mutant High
by Lykosdracos
Summary: COMPLETE! A new take on the X-Men story... UPDATED. I added a lot to the chapters, fixed grammar problems, developed the characters a little. R&R if you're so inclined. :
1. Chapter 1

Mutant High

Disclaimer: I hate to say this, but none of these characters are mine except for the few that I added in myself. No lawsuits, please, I borrowed some of the characters from Marvel and all those other wonderful people who made me wish I lived in their world.

Authors Note: This story takes place in between the second and first movie, before Logan goes to Alkali Lake and after the Statue of Liberty is over. Logan is back and regaining strength, after all, they never say how much time had passed. . .

Chapter 1  
I had nowhere else to go, no one else I could turn to. I'd heard a couple of people making fun of the place, but to me it was salvation. Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children was the name and it was rumored to harbor other people like me.

My parents had turned me out afraid of my newly discovered abilities. I assured them that I wasn't dangerous and that I could stop all the... accidents, but they didn't believe me. My sister hated me for it; I ruined her life she said. Mom would cry just from looking at me, and dad couldn't even stand to do that. Needless to say, it wasn't exactly the most comfortable place to be.

Charles Xavier, at least that's what I think his name is, could help me. That is, if he even would consider it. What if there were some kind of test I'd have to pass? If I failed where would I go? There weren't any other people who would take me in! Even my so-called friends wouldn't talk to me. I didn't want to cause anyone any more trouble so I decided to go to the Institute.

Even if they turned me away, at least I could say that I tried, right? I took all the money I had, as well as the bankcard I could overdraw if necessary.

I left my parents a message and put it on the table. Someone will see it when they come back. Will they care, or will they be glad that I'm finally gone?

I had finally decided to take two bags. The bigger bag I carried clothes in and the smaller one I put odds and ends into. Anything that I thought I'd need, I took. The things that I had no use for... well, hopefully I could come back and claim them one day.

Thanks to Christmas and birthday money I had over five hundred dollars in my wallet, but to get all the way to Westchester, NY? I was in New Jersey; the money would definitely last until then. I checked the bus schedule to get me as close to New York as possible, then from there I would try and get a ride. I could take the subway, maybe, or a train? I'd figure it out there.

As I went down the stairs for the last time, the family portrait caught my eye. Yes, portrait. My parents are sort-of old fashioned, conservative people say now. My mother had hoped I'd become a _lady_, you know, the kind that knows how to sew and set tables, host parties and things like that. I was considered a disappointment. They had been wary of the music I listened to, they tried to forbid me from wearing the clothes I bought when I skipped school, and I'd been categorized as unmanageable shortly thereafter.

It all started about a month ago. I woke up and while I was slicing a bagel for breakfast I accidentally cut myself with the knife. I reached for the paper-towels because it was a pretty deep cut, but, surprisingly, it wasn't bleeding! A thick green gel was covering the cut preventing the blood from seeping out. I stared at it, I mean really, I was freaked and a little nervous.

In about ten minutes the wound was gone except for a small green line that stayed where the cut had been. That wouldn't have been so bad had it not been forthe emerald-colored globe of fire that appeared in my palm as well. Now that scared me, I didn't know what to do with it. I expected it to burn me, to at least feel hot, but it didn't.

I couldn't very well drop it in the house so I took it outside and threw it. It hit a flower straight on and with a small 'boom' the flower, and some of its friends, weren't there anymore.

I sank to my knees on the grass hardly daring to believe this was happening. This was just like something I read about in books. The hero and villain having special powers and ruling over kingdoms, I'd always wanted to be one of them.

I didn't even know how the green flame had gotten there. I tried to conjure another one, but nothing happened and the green line was gone. I concentrated, focused, tried opening the wound, nothing happened. The wound healed, but no fire.

What the hell, I figured, I couldn't stay home all day. The school would call, again, and the parents would flip out, also, again.

I went to school and everything was fine until the end of the day. I had gym and we were playing soccer. I was the goalie and when I went to block the ball I missed and the ball hit my elbow dead on. Some of the guys playing were in the school's soccer team, I hated sports, but the teacher wouldn't write me a pass to the library anymore. Opting for goalie seemed the best option, stand there, watch as my team kept the ball away from me, keep it from entering the net. Not so hard, right? Ha.

Anyway, it hurt like hell, but my team was exuberant because it had still counted as a save. I stared at the clock, twenty minutes left. Some of the dread and tension left my stomach, I could survive for twenty more minutes. I'd already made it through thirty...

It was then I noticed the odd green shadow forming on my elbow. The pain stopped and I felt the power rush through my veins. It was an itching sort of feeling, my hands shook. I thought back to the events of that morning. The flame had appeared after the wound. I forced myself to calm down and think of something else. The anger faded slowly and with it the heated feeling in the center of my hand.

I barely paid attention for the remainder of the period. The fire had manifested after I hurt myself, anger seemed to fuel it, by staying calm would I be able to interrupt the process?

The teacher blew the whistle and we all went in to change. I had a theory, it wasn't a very good one, nor had it been tested, but it was something, at least.

Over the next couple of weeks it proved to be not quite as easy as I had expected. I'm not known for being one of the calmest people in the world. When I think about something it invariably becomes said. I speak my mind, and when someone gets me angry... not a good thing.

I had to fight the anger down and that's almost impossible for me to do. I lost control a few times and ended up throwing the flames into a nearby garbage can. No one suspected anything, though, and teachers never really looked my way.

I was the quiet one, the girl who read books in the library at lunchtime. I cut classes, roamed the neighborhood, wrote stories on benches, anything not to be in school. The high-school was absurd, gangs controlled the hallways, fire-alarms were pulled so fights could be initiated. I had been shoved up against the lockers more times than I wanted to remember.

Coming from a relatively tame middle-school, I hadn't been prepared for what high-school had to offer. Trash-talking, tough, thugs who wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if you looked them in the eye for too long. I acclimated, instead of apologizing and backing down I fought back. I won some, I lost some, but I made it known that they couldn't push me around without some sort of retribution.

And that brings me to the predicament at hand. I was learning to control the anger, but in the meantime all the rage was building inside of me and threatening to explode. My patience was hanging on by a thread and everything was just under the surface.

I kept my head down, barricaded myself in the school's libraries, skipped entire days of school to keep from killing someone. I hated the neighborhood, I would graduate for my parents and then be off to places unexplored. No college for me, Europe called, the rest of the United States called, I wanted to see those places, to write about them. I needed to find intelligent people with whom to converse, people who could teach me new languages, show me through ancient cultures.

I read about ancient Greece, the warriors, Troy, Sparta, Macedonia. I studied Alexander, Ptolemy, Sophocles and Euripides. I didn't belong in this school where Shakespeare was beyond people's comprehension. Shakespeare? What about Chaucer and Old English?

The last day I went to school was memorable, you could say I went out with a bang... ill-attempted bit of humor there, I apologize. A friend of mine had found me, she was crying, wanted me to help her. I protected my friends, started fights with people who had hurt them, this time was no different.

It was a girl, she was crying, someone had to pay. And, yes, before anyone says anything, I'm female, but that doesn't mean one can't be... chivalrous, does it? I was raised to be proper by my mother, but my father had wanted a son. So, under his supervision, I was ingrained with the 'guy code.' Protect girls, never hit them, watch out for them, be respectful, that sort of thing. I wasn't lesbian, but for the girl friends that I had, I, basically, treated them as if I were their guy friend. None of them seemed to mind, they found me when they had a problem and I made it go away.

I found the guy who had verbally abused her, tried to take advantage of her and threw him into the lockers. He got a few good hits in, but when I punched him in the stomach he went down. As he fell his head hit the upraised part of the lockers and he started bleeding. Oops. I probably should have stopped then, but he'd have gotten up. I kicked him in the ribs to prevent that and he stayed down. Point for me.

The principal was called and my parents were brought in. They, of course, didn't know what to do about it. I could have told them that, this school never knows what to do about anything. He was alive, breathing, unfortunately, the school marked it down as self-defense and I was suspended for a month.

It was the same fate as everyone else, a month suspension, scary. I'd seen guys left for dead in the middle of the street because of gang politics. Month suspension for them, too, and they used knives and carried guns. Nice differentiation, huh?

I checked the Internet for anything about 'mutants.' There were quite a few articles, none of them very favorable. There was a law they were trying to pass that would make all mutants come forward and reveal themselves. It was called Mutant Registration, I was reminded of World War II. Would the world allow that to happen again? They would come for us, people would start to disappear, we'd be forced to live together in order to protect the normal humans. Would they then eradicate our existence?

There was a small news article about a man named Xavier and his work against such a law, he ran a small school for gifted children. Anyone that was interested could contact him and join his cause. I wrote the address down, I didn't have time to wait for a response, I'd go see him in person and convince him to let me board.

I'd worry about the boarding fee later, I could always try to get a bank loan, I had pretty good credit. And, if the cost was astronomical, I had enough money for a ticket to Europe. I'd get a job there, start writing, either option was fine by me. As I said before, anywhere but here.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Authors Note: The last time I read and updated this was about a year and a half ago. I'm trying to change some of what the reviewers said needed changing. Thank you for all the constructive criticism. I also have to seriously thank you for reading. If I'd seen a fic posted the way I had I'd seriously have second doubts about reading it. That was the time I didn't know how to format or update on . I've learned now, so here are the revisions.

I waited for morning to arrive, my parents left me alone, I'm not sure they knew what to do. I had kept my fighting a secret from them, the scars on my knuckles, the bruises that colored my body, those were easily hidden. I wore fishnet... gloves, I guess you could say, t-shirts, a sweatshirt over that and. voila, everything was hidden.

It was only ten o'clock on Saturday morning, my parents were out shopping and my sister was over at someone's house. I dragged two suit-cases out of the closet, I put clothes into one and note-books and books I couldn't bear to leave behind in the other. I loaded my book-bag with reading material, jewelry in the hidden compartments, I could sell those along the way if I had to.

I checked the bus schedule for a line that went into New York. Luckily, I had to only wait fifteen minutes. I dropped some money into the box and then sat down in the back. I didn't want anyone to sit with me so I pulled my leather jacket closed, put a headphone in one of my ears and tried to appear threatening.

I opened a book, glared through black-shadowed eyes at the people who boarded and tried not to smile. It was exhilarating, I was on my own, making my own way. I was embracing the life I'd always wanted. I might fail, but that seemed inconsequential compared to the freedom I felt at the moment.

About an hour and a half later I left the bus, the driver was going to refuel. I walked aimlessly around, I had no idea where I was. I was probably still in Jersey, New York would be crowded, buildings stretching to the sky. This place... maybe I'd jump back on the bus when the driver was done.

There were a few dilapidated buildings around and a bar to the side of those. The houses were near collapse and the lawns could hardly be called green. I was almost seventeen and even my sister said I looked older than I am. I was dying for a drink and a cigarette. The bus hadn't allowed smoking and I lit up immediately.

The suitcases weren't heavy, I was floating on a cloud. Sure, the place seemed dangerous, but no worse than my old neighborhood had been. I had a knife in my pocket and a switchblade tucked into my boot. No use against a gun, but it was the middle of the day and I wasn't bothering anyone. I didn't plan on picking a fight nor did I plan on being here very long.

I'd check the bus schedule after I got something to drink, maybe walk the town to see if there were any trains.

I went into the bar and was assaulted by cigarette smoke and the smell of alcohol. There were a few tables around the main counter, but it was obvious that anyone who sat there would be ignored. I tried not to jostle anybody as I made my way to the counter. I sat in a red-lined chair nearest to the wall. My back was against it, I could see the room and no one would be able to sneak up behind weren't too many people there, but there was enough for there to be trouble.

I was hoping that the shadows would hide my face enough not to give anyone a clear view. I had my hair tied back in a black bandanna, my clothes were black, but not provocative. I stared into the mirror behind the bar, my eye-shadow was in place, I had taken out my lip-ring before leaving the house.

The bartender came over and looked suspiciously at me before he asked me what I wanted. I wouldn't be able to order alcohol, he was staring at me too warily for me to think about trying.I ordered a large glass of Sprite™ and he nodded and silently began filling a glass. My hope of going along unnoticed was killed when one of the men came over and laughed suggestively.

"Wanna dance," he asked. "Its dark enough in here, it'll be fun." He pulled at my arm, already anticipating my answer to be yes.

"I don't dance. Thanks though..." I tried being polite as I contemplated smashing a bottle over his head. He'd be unconscious, I'd be left alone, though not if his friends came over. I eyed the other three men trying to size them up. Nope, I wouldn't be able to take all of them, two at the most, if I were lucky.

"That wasn't a question," he snarled and pulled me nearly off my chair.

"Well that's too bad cause' I gave you an answer. Don't make me hurt you." I pulled my arm out of his grasp.

"You... hurt me! A little thing like you! That's a laugh. C'mon, I've been nice, I wouldn't want to hurt your pretty face any," his blue eyes were cold, mean, and I knew he didn't mean dancing, the kind you did to music. He'd pull me into the bathroom, if he could, I had no intention of going anywhere with him.

Anger took over and I pulled back my fist and punched him directly in the eye. He fell without hesitation, out for the count, I took my place back at the counter. Hopefully, after that rather efficient display, the others would leave me alone. The soda was waiting there and the bartender had stopped shining a glass to stare at me.

I thought about going for my knife, but I didn't want to pull the weapon and then be forced to use it. Bar fights were one thing, murder was another entirely.

"She jus' took out Matt," someone yelled. A tall burly man stood up and cracked his knuckles threateningly.

"You should learn to respect you're elders girly." He said, "lucky its me that gets to teach ya'." Three men joined him and they started over my way. I judged the distance between the door and me and with a sinking heart I realized that there was no way that I would make it in time. It was four against one and even if I could take out two, the rest would get to me then.

I stood, braced for the beat down of a lifetime. I'd go down fighting, there was no way I would let any of them use me for sexual gratification. They'd have to kill me first.

A loud thud coming from a glass striking a table rang out from the other side of the bar. A man in a black leather jacket and flannel shirt rose to his feet and walked calmly toward the center of the room.

"She told ya' to leave her be," he said quietly. His voice was gravelly and low-pitched as if he hadn't used it in awhile and his hair was dark brown and wind-blown. I noticed that he kept his arms away from his sides a little as if he would draw a knife or dagger.

I shivered slightly, I didn't want to ever go up against him in a fight. He had training of some kind, he stood very still eyes flicking from one guy to another as if planning a battle strategy. I had done the same thing, though somehow I doubted I'd be able to do half the damage he would.

"Who asked you, drifter? Get outta here unless you want me to beat the crap out of you, too." One of the men taunted.

"I dare ya, bub." A feral look appeared in his eyes. His whole demeanor changed, he was braced and ready to fight. I realized then that he wanted the fight. The same anticipatory pleasure ran through his blood, though whereas I'd fight for survival, he'd take on these men for fun. The men surrounded him forgetting about me.

There was no way I was going to let him take on the four of them. He might be trained, eager, but four heavy-built men against one? The odds weren't fair. It was, after all, my fault that they were going after him.

I shoved people aside and then pushed the nearest guy away to get to his side. He looked surprised to see me, but then understanding and even a small bit of respect lit in his tawny-golden eyes.

The bartender could later be heard saying how it was the best fight anyone around there had ever seen. It was hardly a minute before the troublemakers were taken care of before the girl and the drifter were gone, leaving only an untouched soda and swinging doors in their wake.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I walked out with him to his car. It was a pretty nice car for the motorcycle gear he was wearing. I didn't know much about cars, or bikes, for that matter, but it seemed expensive. I studied him closely as we both smoked, him a cigar and me a Newport.

His leather jacket was torn in places and faded in others. He didn't dress for show, his flannel shirt was for warmth and his clothes didn't hinder maneuverability. It was very practical, I appreciated that he hadn't tried to walk behind me and that he'd helped me with my suitcases.

"Get in," he said handing opening a door for me.

"What?" I asked. I was grateful to him, of course, but that didn't mean I was going to go anywhere with him.

"The car, I'll load your bags, you get yourself situated," he said slowly as if I were a kid not understanding a question.

"I know what you meant, but I'm not going anywhere with you. I don't even know who you are. What are you going to do if I get in the car with you? Did you expect payment, of some sort, for the help you offered in there?" He looked stunned for a minute, but then understanding came to his features.

"Name's Logan. You want to see Xavier don't ya? I'll take you to him. And I didn't expect _payment_ from you," he glared at me for a minute, "I figured you could use some help."

"Yeah, I needed the help. My name's Kaldraya, but how did you know that I wanted to see Xavier? Are you a..." I let the sentence trail off. I didn't want to come out and accuse him of being a mutant, some people were a little touchy on the subject what with the government's attempt at Mutant Registration.

"Am I what? Am I a mutant? Yeah, I am. Aren't you different then them?" he gestured toward the bar.

"Yes... I'm different too. In more ways than one," I chose to use his phrasing, it sounded a lot better. He almost smiled as he put my suitcases into the trunk, not the talkative type, another thing I was grateful for. I wasn't good at making conversation, I spoke on a need-to-say basis.

"So are ya comin'?"

"I'm sorry, but I still don't... trust you. I haven't been to this city before and meeting you in a bar... not that I'm not thankful that you were there but... um,"

"Alright," he growled flicking the ashes from the cigar impatiently. "I get what you're tryin' to say. Usin' your instincts eh? Smart kid. But here's the bottom line. Xavier's school is a haven for other mutants. He keeps em' safe and teaches em how to develop their powers. He's a psychic and can tell when other mutants around the world need help. He sensed you and asked me to come and get ya. I'm here and if you wanna, you can get a free ride back to talk to him. I'm not askin' for your trust, kid, and if you feel threatened you can use that knife you've got in your pocket on me."

"Ok." I didn't like the half-smile that came with his thought of my knife, "thanks for the lift."

We were out of the city with the miles flying by, rock music played quietly in the quiet. It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, though, every now and then he'd look over at me as if searching for something. I couldn't complain because I was doing the same thing to him when I didn't think he was paying attention.

He smelled like cigars and the forest, a woodsy sort of scent that reminded me of fir trees and snow, wolves and deer. He had passed me the lighter twice as I lit cigarettes, but then he'd left it in the center console after the second time. I liked that he hadn't started a lecture about the dangers of smoking.

"Xavier accepts anyone into the School, right, regardless of power, age, financial situations?" Logan's eyes seemed to see right through me. I knew that he understood what I was trying to ask, but what pride wouldn't allow me to say.

"Yeah kid, he'll take anyone in, no questions asked. He isn't the type to worry 'bout money. C'mon, he took me in didn't he?" I was surprised when he laughed, it was a guttural, honest sound as if he didn't do too much of it.

"Does he look into a person's past? I mean, files and things like that," I was thinking of my transcript. The file would be full of absences, detentions, and, the most recent suspension.

"He doesn't need to, psychic, remember?" Logan seemed tense, I was glad I wasn't the only one who found that to be disconcerting. "He won't use it against you, if that's what you're worried about, just don't go outta your way to start any trouble."

I smiled, "I don't start anything, it finds me."

"You'll be fine, then," he put out his cigar in the ashtray. "The School's good that way, not many people aiming to start a fight."

"Must be boring for you," I made my tone light-hearted not wanting to think I meant it offensively.

"Sometimes," he agreed surprising me again, "but I'll show you a room when we get there, if you want, Xavier calls it the Danger Room."

"Nice non-threatening name," I laughed feeling the anticipation rise again. This School could be fun, interesting, maybe I could put the Europe trip off for awhile. If things went as planned, I'd find a new home.

We were at the mansion faster than I thought possible. It seemed like barely an hour had gone by. It was about noon when we got there and I have to admit, the mansion was awe-inspiring. The front looked like it went on forever, the roof was hardly visible with all the windows and shutters beneath it.

The wrought black-iron fence looked sturdy enough to keep an army at bay, I was comforted by that. A defended fortress, for lack of a better word, despite its welcoming appearance. There was a long drive up to the front doors, but a fountain separated the lanes, which made me think the place must have been owned by some aristocrat in history.

Logan stopped the car right after we passed the fountain and I saw angel and cherub statues on the lawn. As we went through the doors Logan lit a cigar and walked purposefully down the long corridor. I chose to walk at his side, rather than following him like a lost dog.

"I'll bring your suitcases in after you talk to the Professor. No pressure, right?"

"Yeah," I agreed finding myself grateful, again, for his offer of escape. He seemed to know me, understand things about me that other people found intimidating, I had relaxed in his presence. The tension leaving me as the miles had flown by, he was dangerous in a feral sort of way, but I found that to be relaxing. I don't know how to explain it, Logan seemed the type that would protect, I didn't have to be on guard all the time.

"The professor is probably in his classroom or office as the other kids call it. You might have to wait a few minutes until the lesson is over, but I'm pretty sure that he'd call class off early if you wanted," he informed me.

"Oh, no, no need to do that. I don't mind waiting. I don't want to give Xavier a bad opinion of me, you know, first time here and interrupting his classes." Logan didn't say anything, he looked at me in that searching way of his. He had slowed his pace, which made it easier for me to keep up. I walked quickly, but every step of his was equal to about two of mine. He covered a lot of ground in his limber, ground-eating stride.

"This is it. I think I'll wait with ya, I want to talk to him a minute anyway," he said stopping in front of a broad oak door.

I tried to think of something to say, but couldn't come up with a topic. He smoked his cigar and walked around a little growing restless. I looked into one of the mirrors in the hall. My long black hair was a mess after the car-ride, I shouldn't have kept the widow open so long. The wind had felt good, though, after being on the bus for so long.

I studied my face, I was too pale, my eyes were dark and the eyeshadow seemed like a bad idea. I had hoped to make a good impression, but the bandanna with skulls on it, my eyes outlined in black... not inducive for a good-student, nice girl impression.

Though, if he were psychic, none of it would matter anyway.

"What happened to ya... for you to come here I mean," he asked unexpectedly.

"I didn't have anywhere else to go," I said simply.

"So your parents weren't the understanding kind. Well, Chuck here'll take care of ya."

"How long have you been here for," I asked.

"I've been here for only a couple'a years," he replied.

"How old are you? You look like you're, maybe, thirty. Except your eyes..." I trailed off, I'd said too much.

"Try ninety, one hundred, somewhere there about," he grinned. His eyes were old, dark, I liked the color. They weren't a normal shade of brown or hazel. Like a lion's eyes, dark golden brown, and just as predatory.

"Ninety?" I repeated stupidly. He took a puff of his cigar and grinned some more. "So how old are you then? Nineteen?"

"No, seventeen. I turn eighteen in May." I took out a brush to de-tangle my hair. I couldn't very well go talk to Xavier looking like I'd slept in a gutter. Logan snorted and went back to smoking. I glanced at him quickly,

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything," he said.

"Ohhh no, you didn't _say_ anything at all." I muttered. I put the brush away just as the door swung open. Kids came running out, some of them staring at me strangely. I felt vulnerable, but I didn't let it show. I raised my chin and stared back at them refusing to look away.

Logan had said the school was safe, but instincts were hard to overcome. The high-school I'd tried to avoid, as often as possible, made dominance key. You didn't look away first, you didn't back down. These kids seemed nice, they looked away first skeptical, some of them whispered. That was okay, I was used to it.

"Come in, Kaldraya, if you wish." A man in an electronically powered wheel-chair rolled over to the door. He had a kind face with light grayish blue eyes. I entered the room and looked around.

It did, indeed, look like a classroom. There was a green chalkboard standing to the side of the room, bookcases spread across the back wall. There were quite a few physics books lying around and notebooks neatly stacked on his desk. I went to one of the chairs in front of his desk and waited for him to come to the other side before I sat down.

Once he had, Logan went to a sofa to the right of me and sank into it, his long legs stretched out in front of him. One thing I noticed, while he looked utterly relaxed, there was an alert look about him that proved that he would be up and ready to attack, should anything go wrong. As if it had just caught his attention Xavier sighed softly and looked pointedly at Logan's cigar.

"How many times must I ask you not to smoke inside the school?" he asked. "Especially in my office?" Logan looked up in mid-puff and choked a little. He was reaching down to put the cigar out on his arm when Xavier cleared his throat and held out an ashtray. Logan raised a brow, but accepted it with a small grin making sure that it was completely out. I stared at him, I'd known he was tough, but putting out a lit cigar on his arm? That was a little much, even for me. As I looked back across the desk, Xavier's attention was back on me.

"So Kaldraya, you've come here because you want help with your powers or is there some other reason," he asked. He returned my gaze steadily, patiently, as if he had all the time in the world to wait for my response. I liked him, I realized, he exuded kindness and understanding. I could tell that he knew more than he let on, but I didn't mind as much as I thought I would have.

"No, Mr, er, Xavier" I cursed myself for the awkward reply, " I read that this school could help and teach me what I didn't already know. ...with certain abilities, I mean."

"Well, you've certainly come to the right place," he said reassuringly, "you're parents, I trust, are aware of the situation? They know you're safe and will be well cared for?"

"Well... um, they don't actually know that I'm here. I left them a note telling them I was going away, but I didn't specify an exact location..."

"Ah, I see. If you don't mind, I think I'll send them a letter explaining everything. They have to be informed, I don't want you, or us, facing any federal charges."

"Okay... then send the letter. I don't want anyone to bring trouble into your school. I don't know if they are going to let me stay. They were afraid of me, I think."

"Everything will turn out as it should. If need be, I'll contact them by phone and invite them to the Mansion. They can see for themselves the type of establishment we run, the type of education you'll receive."

I could almost see my memories flashing behind his eyes. The classrooms with desks pushed together as kids formed social groups. Teachers trying to regain control of the clas, to no avail, letting them talk and waste time until the bell rang. Fights that broke out in the halls, the chair a kid had broken against the blackboard when he'd been asked for his unfinished homework.

"Until then," he interrupted my reverie, "make yourself at home. Logan will give you the tour and show you to your room."

"I'll-- what?" Logan asked, golden eyes met blue sharply. To give Xavier credit, his gaze didn't so much as waver.

"I'm due down with Jean in the lab. We're going to compare the children's progress from the last year, assess classes that will properly enhance their talents," he explained putting a file-folder together. Logan shot him a look, but stood and reached for his pocket. He stopped short and looked at Xavier grinning wryly. We were about to leave when Xavier stopped me.

"If you need anything else ask anyone, I'm sure they'd be most willing to help." I nodded. "Oh, and Logan, a word with you please."

I left the room to give them privacy, they'd want to speak freely. I didn't mean to, but I heard parts of their conversation through the door. Logan's voice was deeper then Xavier's so it was easy to distinguish between the two men.

"...found her okay?"

"...bar...helluva fighter... with me..."

"...seems to have grown... more comfortable... you to show her..."

"I... fine...no attachments...''

"...understand...not easy...difficult time... trust..." the door opened and Logan stepped out shaking his head sheepishly.

"I'm sure I could find my own way if you had other plans..." I said.

"Naw, I don't mind, I've got nowhere important to be right now," he said, "c'mon let's get your bags. If you intend to stay?"

"Yeah, I think so. For now, anyway. Thanks for, um, coming to get me."

"Eh," he shrugged, "you'd have found your way here eventually."

I didn't have any answer to that. He waited before walking with me down the corridor. I could learn to like it here, the school I'd call home. It felt very home-y, comfortable, easy to relax and acclimate accordingly. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, relaxing, letting the guard down, my shields had been up for so long that thinking about comfort and being a part of something made me nervous. Sad, but true.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"This, as you've probably guessed, is the main hall. No one enters or leaves without gettin' caught," he pointed to the top of the tall ceiling where cameras pointed in all different directions. As I'd thought, a well defended fortress, I felt even better knowing someone would be watching out for us all the time.

"The corridors lead you down to different rooms some of which are classrooms, some are just storage. If you head down this way," we walked down the left pathway, "it leads to the rec. room. Television, stereo, pool table, everyone uses them, though you'll have to win the tv, and of course from there... the kitchen." It was huge, a massive stove and an over-sized platinum refrigerator took up a good part of the room. There was an oven, cabinets above it, an island in the middle. All of it was very clean, it reminded me of

There was also a large table with a lot of chairs around it, and several counters on which various things were stored. He opened up the fridge and reached up into the higher level towards the very back. After a few seconds of searching he emerged triumphantly with a beer.

"I knew I'd hidden one around somewhere," he drank deeply and sighed in satisfaction. "Nothin' like an ice-cold beer straight outta the..." he stopped and looked over at me. "You want somethin'? There's soda and juice in here."

I walked over and peered under where his arm was holding the door open. I grabbed the nearest can, which turned out to be a Mountain Dew and without hesitation I flipped the tab open and chugged some of it down. I caught him staring at me so I shrugged and drank some more unwilling to go another minute without replenishing.

"I didn't have a chance to finish that soda I ordered at the bar," he laughed and took another long drink.

"Anyway, better get rid of this 'fore Chuck catches me with it. I can do without the smokes, but to deny a man his beer... that's a sin worth dyin' for." I laughed and waited for him to finish, which actually didn't take very long. He tossed the can into the recycling can after compressing it down to the size of a tennis ball.

We walked up a flight of red-carpeted stairs. The banister was wooden, nicks and scratches indented the surface. I wish I had tools, I could fix some of the worse indents and make the wood shine like new.

Various paintings hung on the walls, all very cheery, serene, and soon we faced a corridor with doors in an intermitent pattern.

"This is where most of the kids sleep and hang out. The bedrooms are all throughout this floor. Your bedroom would be about... here." He stopped in front of about the seventh or eighth door from the stairs.

Opening the door revealed a spacious room complete with what looked like a brand-new twin sized bed, several small dressers, a bureau with a mirror on top of the varnished surface and a plush chair in the corner by the window. I put my bookbag on the dresser and my suitcases on the bed, there would be time enough to unpack later. As I heaved the second suitcase onto the bed the zipper gave sending books crashing to the floor.

"You brought books with you," Logan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Do you have any clothes?"

"Of course I have clothes," I sighed as I picked the novels up from the floor, "but I couldn't leave these behind. Besides, I needed something to read on the bus."

"Sure kid," Logan shook his head in disbelief, what was so strange? "If you like readin' then there's a room that you're gonna love." I closed the door behind me, but left it away from the door a crack. If anyone was curious and decided to take a peek I'd know.

Logan headed up another set of stairs, we didn't stop anywhere along the way though I was interested in some of the rooms. Storage, he had said, they didn't look like storage rooms to me. Ah well, time to explore later, as well.

Located on the third floor of the mansion, the Professor had compiled a vast library for his students. The bookcases were crammed with hardly any room to spare. There were encyclopedias, medical journals, biographies, and even a fiction section with a huge part reserved for fantasy. I browsed the shelves quickly happy to note that they had the full collections of series, no skipping between volumes.

"This is awesome," I said loving it here already.

"You haven't seen the best part yet," he stood at the door leaning on the frame. "You have to see the Danger Room and lower levels before you see anything else. It amazed me even more when he pressed a hidden button in the wall and a panel in the door opened. No one would have been able to detect anything from the walls.

"The elevators will take you mostly anywhere in the school you'd want to go. Right now we're heading to where most of the mechanics classes are taught. There is also the Danger Room, where training courses can be set and where you'll be practicing."

The doors opened to a pair of steel-framed doors. Logan went to the control panel and typed in a sequence of words. I didn't want to go inside, if I were trapped inside, there was no way out that I could see. The ground was made of pale tiles, the walls were black like televisions when they're turned off.

I looked up, glass windows covered the uppermost part of the room. Observation, I guessed, when classes were taught here the teacher would be able to watch how the students reacted.

"So it's like a training simulation right?" I asked putting the screens and opaque flooring.

"Yeah, except for the simulation is your reality. Some of the things you'll take on in here are real, and the terrain isn't part of your imagination. If there's a blizzard and you're freezin' that's not all simulation. That's what's really happenin' Don't forget that, if there's an enemy coming at you, run or fight, 'cause your mind will register pain and damage taken."

"Its not real, though, right, I mean they couldn't allow students to actually be harmed, would they?"

"No..." Logan said slowly, "but it'll seem awfully real when fire's singing your hair and guys with knives are advancing. If you bleed, its in your head, but, trust me, it doesn't feel like its all in your imagination."

I processed that, pretty high-tech for a school. So the floors could change, the walls, too? The temperature could be set, though I didn't know, for sure, how it all worked. As we left that room we heard voices again and kids came out of another room on the other side of the elevators.

"That's where One--, er, Cyclops teaches his classes." Logan smiled condescendingly raising his head and staring down the hallway. "Speaking of which..."

"Back already, Logan. So this must be Kaldraya. Welcome to the School. I'm Scott Summers," he shot a dirty look at Logan. "I teach mechanics and training classes."

"Hello, nice to meet you." I said politely. Scott was tall, a little taller than Logan. He had light brown hair, but I couldn't tell the color of his eyes because he wore a red-tinted visor over them. Whereas Logan had an aura of wild power to him, Scott had one of authority and control. I could see him teaching combat classes what with his postion of, what I assumed was, leadership.

"You planning on stickin' around for awhile Logan?" Scott asked standing tall with his arms crossed in front of him. Hostility, much, the air rang with unspoken tension.

"I guess for awhile I might," he replied with a very slight edge to his voice. "Thanks for the friendly concern."

"Anytime. Kaldraya, it was very nice to meet you. I hope you'll find the school a friendly and warm environment." Scott continued on his way down the hall. I didn't even have to ask. While Scott had been courteous there was an undercurrent that ran through the air when they spoke to one another. I watched him walk away having almost expected him to bow.

Logan was the type who didn't care about following rules as long as the job was done. He looked after himself and didn't need anyone to help him with that. Scott was the type who followed the rules down the last dotted I and crossed T. No wonder they didn't get along. It was only my first impression of Cyclops, but I knew it was one that would turn out true.

"Well since you met him, then there's no reason to go see his room right?" We went back to the elevator and there, Logan pushed the button to go back to the second floor. A group of girls came walking down the hallway at the same time. I took a deep breath, girls and I didn't usually get along.

I'd had maintained friendships with guys all my life, I found them to be easy to talk to, congenial, not concerned with fashion or trends. Be friendly, I reminded myself, friendly and warm, Scott had said. I'd give it my best shot.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Hey Logan," one of them yelled. The girl looked to be about the same age as me, she had a streak of white in her otherwise brown hair. She spoke with a southern accent but she was completely open in her greeting. They were definitely old friends. she hugged him in greeting.

"Hey. This is Kaldraya, she just got here today," Logan didn't move, but I felt him retreat. People, not his forte, I could relate.

"Nice to meet ya," she smiled at me, honest, open. I liked the way she dressed, black jeans, a short-sleeved black shirt and gloves that came up to her elbows. It was unique, maybe I'd get along with her. "My name's Rogue, this here is Kitty, and to my left is Jubilee."

"Hi. Um, cool names." Rogue and Jubilee grinned while Kitty laughed. Kitty had a pink sweater on, a pair of blue jeans, and her hair was tied back with a pink ponytail. She seemed friendly, though, not like my sister's friends. Snobs, the lot of them, I did my best to stay away from them, though there was none of their maliciousness in Kitty's blue eyes.

Jubilee was wearing a neon-yellow tank top, she was Asian, her eyes were rimmed in colorful eyeshadow. She seemed very artsy, I liked that, too, her high-top sneakers were neon as if she'd colored them in with a highlighter.

"Alright," Logan cleared his throat, "well then, I'll leave you here to get to know one another better."

"Thanks for helping me..." I called after him watching him walk back to the elevator. Just as the doors shut I managed to hear him say 'anytime.' I wished he'd come back, him I could understand, what did I have in common with these three girls? Would I be some sort of project, I'd answer questions, I was sure. I wondered if I could make a quick escape, head back to the library or my room to unpack. That would be rude, I mentally took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face. It wouldn't hurt to make some more friends, right? Could they see the panic in my eyes?

"So where are you from," Kitty asked exuberantly, "we heard you'd come in with Logan, the school's been talkin' about'cha."

Oh, joy. Good talk or bad talk? I guess I'd find out soon.

"I'm from New Jersey. It's, er, not too far from here." I explained hesitantly.

"Cool. They must have the best malls over there." Jubilee exclaimed, this was going to be a long conversation, I could feel it. "So you're from the city? What were the people like? Did you--"

"Let her breathe, Lee," Rogue stepped forward sending me a heartning glance, "no need to grill her right now."

"Oh, sorry," Jubilee looked a little embarrased, "we don't get many people from the city in this school, I talk too much, sometimes, ignore it. Others do."

I smiled at that, "no, its no problem, I guess. Um, the people were... interesting, the malls were pretty cool. Too much stuffed in too small of a place."

"Ah," Rogue tucked her hair behind her ear, "not much of a talker, huh? Don't worry, I pulled the loner gig when I first got here, too. Quiet is a blessed thing, huh?"

I didn't have time to respond, Jubilee had started speaking again and Kitty was fairly bouncing in place so happy and excited with the thought of a new girl friend. I

"So where'd the professor lodge you? Do you like the room?"

I stepped into the elevator with them, I'd faced four guys in a bar earlier that afternoon. Casual conversation should have been nothing in comparison.

"Yeah," I hated how timid my voice was, I wasn't a shy person. I didn't like to talk much, that was true, but that didn't make me shy, did it? Caution, apprehensive, paranoid, but shy? I cleared my throat before speaking again wishing I could have a cigarette, "the room's great, I love the library. And the people here seem really nice, I met Xavier and Scott Summers already."

"Scott's totally awesome," Kitty grinned, "he's a really, like, good teacher, too. And the Professor, he's amazing, helps kids like us all the time."

" We're right over here," Jubilee cut in pointing to a door in the hallway. "We share a room."

Their room was next to mine, there was no connecting door, it would all be fine. They seemed like nice people, I could stand to have a _few_ friends that were girls, couldn't I? The point was to leave the past behind, forget the violence, shed the layers of rage-masked hatred directed toward the world. I could start over here.

"This is like, so awesome." Kitty said, "we can all be room-mates then."

"Yeah, it'll be cool to have another girl around, now we can show the boys who's boss here." Jubilee laughed.

"Did I hear you talkin' about us?"

It's not nice to go listenin' to other people's conversations," Rogue glared at the guy she'd called Bobby, but there was no real anger in her gaze.

Bobby had short blonde-hair and silvery blue eyes. He wore plain jeans, but by the way he came over to stand protectively at Rogue's side, I knew that they were together. I'd been in relationships before, but never one like theirs seemed. Bobby looked at Rogue as if he were drowning and Rogue was having trouble not smiling. They were... cute, he was a good looking guy, they looked happy together. Content.

"Who's the new girl," he asked.

"My name's Kaldraya," I said lightly reminding myself to keep a low profile. He hadn't meant any harm in his question, no need to snap.

"Cool." Bobby replied, "this here's Jon, also known as, Pyro. My nickname's Iceman."

He concentrated for a second turning his back to , out of thin air, he held four roses out of ice and handed them to us. Pyro flicked his zippo lighter and wreathed the roses in flame for a second, but not long enough for them to melt.

The name Pyro suited Jon, he was as different from Bobby as could be. There was something darker about his attitude and the way he looked at everyone from the doorway rather than coming inside. It was similar to the way I was standing with my back to the wall, he carried a lighter, that was interesting.

"Wicked." I said, "that explains your nicknames." Jon flicked the lighter shut and then open again. He met my eyes without backing down, I smiled an invitation purposefully looking away first. I didn't want to have a stare down, it would make things awkward.

"So, what's your power," he asked. I picked a few select memories, felt the anger burn inside. It was as if a door opened part-waysomewhere between my heart and my stomach. I could tap into the power without letting it obliterate me. I held a glowing orb of green fire in my hand. I couldn't let it get out of control, though everything inside me screamed to let the power loose. It would feel good, I knew it would, but that thought helped me to slowly close the door.

I fought to keep my expression neutral, no need to worry the innocent bystanders. I shut the door, breathed a sigh of relief, and watched as the flame dwindled down until it finally disappeared.

"Nniiccee," Jubilee said with a low whistle. "Check this out."

Then, from her hands, a bunch of fireworks went off. The room was full of green, red, and blue sparklers that drifted around before disapating. I laughed, the fireworks were pretty, if she aimed that at someone it'd probably hurt quite a bit.

"Kitty's is pretty cool,though, beats mine," Jubilee looked toward the girl in pink who smiled mischeviously.

She walked over to Bobby, throug him and the wall and before appearaing back in the room. I couldn't keep the surprise off my face, that was a useful power. I wondered what it felt like to be walked through. Cold like a ghost was supposed to feel? I waited to see what Rogue would do, but when she didn't seem to want to show us anything, I restarted the conversation.

"So, you all live here right?" It seemed stupid to say, but it helped the awkward silence that had filled the room a minute before. Thankfully, Bobby latched onto what I was trying to do and answered. He smiled at me for my consideration, but Rogue had helped me out before, I was just returning the favor.

"Yeah, we stay here until the holidays, then some of us go home. Those of us who want to stay do."

"I noticed you with Logan," Kitty said. "What was he doing up here? He hardly ever comes to the second floor."

"He was showing me around. Mr. Xavier was busy with, um, Jean so he filled in." I stopped talking when Kitty giggled.

"What's wrong? Did I not get a name right," I asked curious as to what made her laugh.

"I'm sorry," she giggled again, "I wasn't laughing at you. You can call Xavier, Professor if you want to. That's what we call him now, anyway."

"It's no big deal," Rogue said aiming a pointed stare in Kitty's direction. "We just thought you'd like to know."

"Yeah, we all have nick-names so she should, too, right?" Jubilee asked.

"What do you want your nickname to be?" Kitty asked.

I thought about it. Their nicknames did a good job of describing them. Iceman for Bobby who made things out of ice, Jubilee for her fireworks, Pyro for his manipulation of the lighter, Kitty and Rogue for their personalities. What should mine be?

"What about Logan," I asked, "what do you guys call him?"

"Oh, he's sometimes called Wolverine." Rogue answered for the group, "but it depends on how he introduced himself to you. He must have liked you."

"Why do you say that?" Bobby asked.

"Because he told her his real name," she said matter-of-factly. "Where exactly did you meet him, anyway?"

I gave them the short version. I left Jersey because of a mishap at school, took a bus, went into a bar for a drink. I watched their faces subtly waiting for some sign of nrgative reaction. There was none, they seemed genuinely interested. I continued telling them about Logan's help in the bar and then my tour around the mansion.

"Cyclops is gonna love it when he finds out about that. He's been talking about training over-time now so we'll be ready for anything the Professor can throw at us." Pyro said still laughing over my explanation of the bar.

"I can't believe you went to fight with him," Jubilee remarked with wide eyes, "knowing Logan, it's a wonder you had the time to get to him."

"Well, I couldn't leave him all alone to fight them." I defended, not completely understanding what she meant. They all shared a look.

Jon came out and said what they all must have been thinking. "Wolverine, now he's a damn good fighter. Four guys would be nothing to him. Haven't you seen what he can do?"

"I didn't see anything odd about him, no, except for his aging." Logan had said his age was around ninety to one hundred, yet he only looked thirty. I'd have to ask him sometime what the world had been like a hundred years ago.

Rogue looked amused, "his aging? How did he fight, then?"

"How anyone else would have." I was definitely confused, "I mean, if you're saying he was entirely competant and able to take them on, I agree. He wiped the floor with those guys, probably could have demolished the bar. What aren't you all telling me?

"Yeah, he's definitely strong," Rogue echoed, "you didn't happen to notice anything else?"

"Rogue, what are you talking about?" I felt like I was being left in the dark. The four of them were sharing amused glances, raised eyebrows, and though none of it was was directed at me, I'd still have preferred being in on the joke.

Logan truly hadn't needed my help, but the fact that I had came over to try... that explained the look on his face when he saw me next to him. The thought made me a little sad, but also proud for having been accepted by the Wolverine.

"He's had military training at some point," Rogue answered, "we were curious if you'd seen the extent of that training. It can be a little... brutal at times."

"Oh," I shrugged, "yea, I could see that from the way he faced them. Sizing them up, taking them down, very controlled and precise."

"Shoot," Bobby said looking at his watch, "Jon and I have to go, don't want to be late for Auto shop, Scott doesn't like it when kids are late."

"Yeah, us too," Rogue and Jubilee said. "Don't want to be late for our class, either."

"Where would I go to apply for classes?" I asked before they could leave the room.

"You have to see the Professor for that. He'll help you pick a schedule with classes you'll like and all." Jubilee said.

"Yeah, just hope you don't get Wolverine for a teacher. Man, his fighting and survival lessons are torture." Jon flicked his lighter closed for the last time before he pocketed it.

"Okay, um, thanks," I said. "I'll go and see the Professor right now."

"You might want to, like, check by the classrooms. He'll probably be in there okay?" Kitty volunteered.

"Alright. I'll catch up with you guys later!" I waved and made my way back towards the front stairs. It was sort of a relief to get away from all of them. They were nice enough, but they talked almost non-stop. It was nice to be away from all that and back to peace and quiet.

I headed towards the Professor's room again wondering what classes he'd have to offer. The combat classes, they were definitely something I wanted to have. Jon said that they were torture, but having seen the way he fought... it was definitely a skill worth learning.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The doors were closed when I got there. I didn't want to knock on the door for fear there was a class inside. I couldn't hear anything, but that didn't mean there wasn't some sort of instructive film being showed.

{Why don't you try coming back in the morning? I'm sure you must be pretty tired after all the excitement. I've mailed the letter to your parents and we can talk about scheduling in the morning.}

There was only one person that voice belonged to. I had hoped to get everything out of the way before morning, but his consideration was nice. I didn't know what the mansion's smoking policy was, aside from not smoking indoors. Maybe I could sneak outside and have a cigarette?

I wandered through the kitchen remembering a sliding glass door to the back of the room. A couple boys sat at the table, leafing through a comic book and a girl with flowers growing in her hair sat all the way at the end reading a book. I searched through the refrigerator and took out two chocolate chip cookies that were on a plate. I put them in a napkin as I continued through the room.

I grabbed a soda from the cabinet before I walked through the glass doors and outside into the fading sunlight. From the tour earlier I had seen a pool and a basketball court. There was plenty of space to walk around. I lit a cigarette, it felt good to wander around, unhampered by people and conversation. Good thinking time.

Flowers of all kinds grew in a garden surrounded on all sides by thick hedges. A small gate hewn into the hedge admitted me in and the sweet scent of roses flowed through the air. A younger girl was sitting on a bench, laughing quietly as she slowly froze and unfroze a bee.

It wasn't with ice, it was like pressing the pause button on a remote control. The bee would stop in mid-air and then resume what it was doing after a couple minutes. I ducked to the other row of flowers so I wouldn't disturb her.

It was also due to my dislike of insects, bees weren't high on my list of favorite bugs. I barely tolerated catepillers, spiders--- ok, anything that flew or crawled or slithered. Snakes were fine, but the small and creepy, no thanks.

I watched the sunset while I finished the two cookies. I wasn't too hungry, it was rare for me to eat more than one meal a day. I lasted on cigarettes, a bag of chips, and caffeine most of the time. Dinner when my parents made me eat it, breakfast, too, if I wasn't out the door fast enough.

I yawned, strange, it was early yet for me to think about turning in. I'd go curl up in bed, after unpacking, and read before I fell asleep. Seemed like a good plan.

* * *

I woke up lying on my book, so much for David Copperfield, I'd gotten about three chapters in, if I remembered correctly. I didn't have to look out the window to know it was early, I'd always been able to feel time from the air. My dad had never set an alarm clock in his life, he'd mentally tell himself when he wanted to be up and he'd wake at that time. I didn't have that ability, but I'd learned to distinguish the time of day.

Peeking at the clock next to my bed I read 4:30am, great, it was going to be a long day. I'd get my schedule today, which would be good, and hopefully start some of the classes. Get things on track, establish some sort of routine.

I got dressed knowing that there was no way that I was going to get back to sleep. I chose a crimson-red tank top, blue jeans, black combat boots. Better than yesterday, at least I'd added some color. Most of my clothes were black, I had one formal dress and a blue sweater with black business pants to wear in times of emergency.

My ears were pierced three times, but I took the skulls and skeletons out and replaced them with a matching set of spade earrings. A pirate flag combo, a ruby fairy, and a tombstone to finish, that was better, I thought, at least they weren't all death symbols.

My nails were painted black, but I didn't have any other color with me. I did my eyes with a mix of red and gray, black eyeliner applied moderately. I looked better today, less pale, more healthy. I was pleased with my appearance, I'd leave the bandanna out, my hair looked fine hanging straight and to the middle of my back.

It only took me two attempts before i made it to the kitchen. I'd decided to take the stairs to get familiar with the mansion. I grabbed a pear and an apple from the counter and continued toward the patio, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible.

To my surprise, I wasn't the only one who was awake. Logan was standing with his back to the door, unreadable expression on his face. I didn't want to disturb him so I leaned against the doorframe and watched the sun rise. It reminded me of The Little Prince, 'one loves the sunset, when one is so sad.' Though it wasn't sunset, and I'm sure Logan wasn't sad, but the feeling applied.

"You can sit down if you want, you know," he said without turning around.

"Didn't want to bother you."

"Eh, it's no problem. What're you doing up so early anyway," he asked sitting down in one of the chairs. Logan lit his cigar and pulled the second chair away from the table with his foot. I took the message and sat down next to him.

"Couldn't sleep," I answered, "what about you."

"Same," he replied. I studied his face, there was no sign of weariness or f atigue. My eyeliner helped cover the darkness under my eyes, I'd perfected the art of hiding my lack of sleep. I wasn't an insomniac, I could sleep when I wanted to, but I didn't like it.

Night was when I was able to recharge and find some semblance of peace before the day came with its inevitable frustrations and soul-shrinking hate. I'd learned to cope with four or five hours of sleep a night in order to keep sane.

"Want an apple," I asked. I had almost forgotten about it.

"Sure, thanks," he took the apple and, to my amazement, three razor-sharp claws emerged from between the skin of his knuckles. He sliced the apple into pieces and then ate them, one by one. He looked over in my direction and ran his hand through his hair when he saw my expression.

I tried for a neutral expression and failed horribly. I couldn't think of anything to say. No wonder Rogue, Jubilee, Bobby and Pyro had shared those looks. Logan had done that much damage without unsheathing his claws. I couldn't imagine how devastating the damage would have been had he used them.

"What," he quirked a brow, "you're not scared of me now, are ya?"

"No," my voice wasn't hesitant, but I couldn't take my eyes from his hand. Were they both like that? He obviously had control over them, but what were they made of? Did they bend? Were they like wrist sheaths, move your arm a certain way and the blades spring free?

"Really," he drawled, smiling to himself.

"I mean it," I said. "You don't scare me. It was just odd for a minute seeing the..." I trailed off. Logan's nickname was Wolverine, I understood now. Very fitting.

"Claws?"

"Yeah, but it hurts you, doesn't it?" I asked.

"What makes you say that," he looked at me through narrowed eyes. I couldn't read any anger in them, curiousity, satisfaction, but no hostility.

"Because you bled," I replied looking at his knuckles where a line of blood was left behind.

"You don't miss much do ya," he wiped his hand on the back of his jacket.

"I'm sorry," I said after awhile. I wasn't sure whether or not I offended him and that was the last thing I had wanted to do. I should have learned by now to keep my comments quiet, to observe rather than question.

"For what," he asked looking sideways at me. Hi s eyes caught the sun making them seem golden, I could see flecks of green and dark brown in them. I knew then that he didn't mind, that he wasn't off-put by my bluntness.

"Prying," I smiled feeling a sense of companionship, it had been a long time since I'd felt truly accepted by anyone.

"You..." but he didn't get much of a chance to say anything else because voices were raised in the kitchen.

"It's not my turn to set the table, it's yours!"

"No it's not! I did it yesterday."

"Is too!"

"Is not!" I glanced over at Logan, he sighed and stood up stretching.

As he walked into the kitchen he growled, "is there a problem here?"

The two kids that had been arguing quickly scurried away nearly sending the plates clattering to the floor. I smothered a laugh going inside to finish what the boys had started. I heard more voices, more were coming. I took another apple from the counter and pulled a chair into the shadows of the patio. No one could see me from inside and I could eat, smoke and think without having to answer questions about New Jersey.

I hadn't expected Logan to stick around, he was long gone. Ah, well, the conversation we'd had left me enough to ponder. He was interesting, I realized I was in danger of falling for the hundred-year-old brawler. No point in that, I knew from experience, there's no point in trying to tame the wild.

It hurt to be tamed, caged, I wouldn't do that to anyone. He had saved me, fought with me, I grinned ruefully, was nice to me. I had thought my defenses secure and yet with one show of kindness, there they went. I'd build them again, higher this time, I'd accept his friendship, meet some more people my age and stop wondering what it'd feel like to face off against the Wolverine.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"Good morning, Kaldraya."

A tall, red-haired woman stood at the sliding doors. Yes, the defenses needed to be restored, I hadn't noticed her standing there. My back was partially to the door, that never happened.

"Um, good morning." I repeated, she didn't look young enough to be a student but I wasn't entirely sure. She was gorgeous, though, warm brown eyes, a trim figure, pale skin complimented the firey color of her hair.

She was wearing a dove gray shirt, a pair of form-fitting black pants and modest heels. No, not a student, she was dressed casually, yet still professionally. She had to be employed by Xav-- the Professor's.

"My name's Jean," she said shaking my hand. Jean had a good grip, not meant to bruise or exert dominance, but steady enough to know she wasn't a pushover. "I teach health classes here when I'm not in the lab."

"There's a lab?" What didn't this school have?

"Yes, I'm a doctor, I research and work as a doctor there when I'm not teaching," she smiled. "Have you found the school to your liking? I know the Professor has high hopes for you. I hope you haven't been overwhelmed by the students and all you've seen since yesterday?"

"No, it's been great here thusfar. I was hoping to meet with--" but I didn't get a chance to say much else because Jubilee had come bounding onto the patio. She slung her arm across my shoulders, I stood and awkwardly mimicked her motion to hide my flinch at the unexpected contact.

I wasn't used to people touching me. There was a nice four inch wide berth of space between me and the people I spoke with, I hadn't been prepared for the blatant display of good-will and I hoped no one had noticed my discomfort.

"Hey, Dr. Grey. I see you've met Fira here?" I relaxed slightly, Jubilee hadn't sensed my withdrawl.

"So where'd you go last night? I was lookin' for ya' to play a round of pool."

I couldn't help but stare at Jubilee. She was dressed today in a bright yellow shirt and white jeans. That wouldn't have been so odd if her hair wasn't tied with all different colored ponytails.

"I bought them all at the mall. The store was having a sale. I couldn't figure which one to wear today so I figured I might as well wear them all."

"They look stunning." Jean said sipping her coffee.

"Thanks! I thought so too." Jubilee smiled. I had a question of my own though.

"Where did the name Fira come from?"

"Well... since you didn't come up with a nick-name Kitty and I decided to help you out a little. You don't have to go by us, Rogue thought that you should decide on your own, but at least now you have choices right," she explained. "Kitty came up with Tourmaline, but that doesn't explain anything. Jon saw your Latin book and wanted to go with Incindia, but the best one, I think, is Fira."

"Yeah, sure, that's fine." I managed to say. Things were speeding by much faster than I could grasp.

"Great! I'll make sure to spread the word. And Dr. Grey, I have a question about last night's homework..." I de-tangled myself and said my good-byes.

I found myself heading toward the library. I walked to the back, eager to have a closer look at the books that were there. So many to choose from, romance or fantasy, historical to biography, I didn't know where to start.

I eventually chose a book about Ancient Sparta. I knew a lot of the facts already, this was more of a refresher on the topic. I'd be able to familiarize myself with their culture rather than immersing myself in a new one. I wanted to have a notebook and pen with me before I started studying a new era in history.

I lost track of time, the quiet broke my concetration. It was still morning through a few hours had gone by. Cursing to myself, I put the book back on the shelf noting its place so I could finish it later. I figured it wouldn't hurt to pay the Professor a visit, if he were busy I'd come back and settle in for a day of reading.

His office door wasn't closed, which was a good sign. I knocked lightly just the same, so as not to startle him if he was doing something else.

"Come on in, Kaldraya," I heard him say. "You'll be pleased to know that your parents called me earlier this morning to say that they'll be coming to visit tomorrow."

"Oh," I had braced myself once I'd heard the word parents. I didn't feel the regular sinking feeling that came with any mention of them. "Um, thank you for calling them. I'm not sure if they'll let me stay, though, knowing my father, he'd want me back home with them." The last thing I wanted to do was go back with them. I'd found a place I could learn to call home, I tasted freedom, I wouldn't be forced back into a cage.

"I'm sure they'll do what they think is best," he said kindly, "but meanwhile, Jean tells me that you wish to pick some classes and get started as soon as possible."

"Yes, I do, but... if I'm not going to stay..."

"We'll worry about that when the time comes, how about that?. Until then, you'll be able to meet some of the teachers and become more comfortable with the School. That way, regardless of your parents opinion, you'll know if you can be comfortable here."

That made sense, I'd rather not grow attached to the School if I couldn't stay. Europe was next, if my parents refused to allow me to train here, I'd board the next flight leaving the country. The Professor was looking at me as if to say 'now, it's not really all that bad.' He hadn't met my father, his opinion would change when faced with my dad's indomitable will.

"Here's a list of the courses we offer here. Tell me which you'd be interested in," he handed me a sheet with a bunch of options to choose from. I looked it over and immediately listed off a few.

"The basics of course, literature, ancient history, psychology, philosophy. Would it be okay if I took some different classes?"

"Yes, that would be fine. You may pick three more before your schedule is full," he said looking down at where he had started writing. "Algebra or Chemistry, perhaps, you'll need to take those eventually."

"Do I need them now?" I shuddered at the thought, Chemistry would be fine, but anything mathematical and my brain froze. I'd always been good when it came to English, I had skipped from third to fifth grade reading and comprehension. Math, however, I'd taken remedial mathematics courses for as long as I could remember.

"No, but, keep in mind, you're required to pass them. Now or sometime in the future, we have tutors and teachers who will help if you have difficulty with any particular subject."

Tutors, yes, I'd had a few of those. Math, in theory, didn't seem that difficult. There was only one answer to the equations, x equaled something and nothing else. When I tried to learn it, my body literally froze. I'd loose track of time, forget simple rules, nope, I'd leave that to another year.

"Okay, then... Combat Training, Chemistry and Survival." I finished.

The Professor consulted his computer for awhile before the printer whirred to life. I had been looking around the room. Everything in the Mansion was organized and tidy, for all of the kids in the building, the place stayed remarkably clean.

"I've placed the class and time you'll go to them on the left," he put the schedule onto the desk and pointed at the margins with his pen. "I've added time in between the third and fourth class for lunch. There's also a break, here," he pointed to a half-hour slot of time, "before your last two classes. The students talked me into a few years ago," he laughed, "so the new 'break' stayed." He handed me my schedule.

"Wait a minute," I said, I couldn't help the laugh that came bubbling up, "Scott and Logan teach a class together?" Xavier looked amused, too, but he shook his head no.

"Professor Summers teaches Combat Training, Professor Logan is in charge of the Survival course. Their names are together because one will take over for the other should a situation arise."

I understood his meaning, professionality, I shouldn't call my teachers by their first name. The schedule wasn't complicated. I started my day with Philosophy, took a break with some Ancient History followed by more deep thought in Psychology. I'd play with chemicals before lunch and then head to Literature class. I'd stop outside for a quick smoke break before ending the day with Combat Training and then Survival.

The day started at eight in the morning, an hour for each class, with time for homework and freetime after five.

I checked my watch, it was almost noon. There wasn't much I could do until one o'clock so I thanked the Professor and went to the kitchen to stock up so I'd have enough energy for Literature and, hopefully, a workout with Professor Scott and Logan.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When I got to the kitchen, Rogue and Bobby were sharing a table eating a sandwich they obviously weren't tasting. They were too busy staring at one another, oblivious to Jubilee's and Kitty's giggles and repeated attempts to catch their attention.

"Fira!! What's up? Did ya get your schedule from Professor X," Jubilee asked, scrambling up from her chair.

"Yeah I got it. Take a look if you want, fill me in on what to expect?" I sat with them as if it were the most natural thing in the world and put my schedule onto the table. The four of them looked it over groaning at the two physical classes having been placed one after the other.

"Awesome! You got Jean and Storm," she exclaimed.

"Storm?" I asked.

"Yeah, she's like the coolest teacher!" Kitty said, "her name's listed here as Ororo." Jon came up behind them and quickly took the schedule from Jubilee's grasp.

"Give that back, Jon! Right now, or I'm gonna tackle you with that move Scott taught us!"

"Just a minute. Hang on a second," he said running to the other side of the table and away from Jubilee. "Uh-oh, you got Logan! And at the end of the day, too! Doesn't look like we'll see much of you at night. The Wolverine pushes his classes too much, wants us to rise above our bodies capabilities or something."

"Oh shut up, his classes aren't that bad. You're just saying that because you like Scott's classes better," Rogue retorted finally looking up.

"Well, of course! Scott doesn't think that dredging through blinding rain to get to the top of a mountain is fun. Logan thinks that it's the best time in the world."

"Yeah, so they teach differently? What's the big deal? Scott wants us to strengthen our minds while working our muscles. Logan makes us use our minds while building endurance and stamina," Rogue argued.

"Ice? Which teacher do you prefer," he asked Bobby.

"I prefer Scott. Sorry Rogue, but not being able to walk out of the classroom after a lesson isn't very appealing. That's why I didn't take the class again this year."

"Men," Rogue retorted staring at the two of them, "some heroes you'll turn out to be."

"I'll be right back. I want to go and get something to eat." I left to go make myself a sandwich too. There was ham, cheese, bologna, Swiss, salami, and turkey. I chose good old-fashioned ham and cheese, with a whole lot of mustard. By the time I got back, Kitty and Jubilee were planning another trip to the mall.

"Scott said that he would drive us when he goes with Jean to the movies. We have a whole four hours to shop! I heard that there's going to be a sale at one of the major fashion stores! Hey? Are you in?" Jubilee asked me.

"I really don't know. I'll have to get back to you on that," I said, which reminded me of whether or not I'd be around to go to the mall with them. While I ate I watched Bobby and Jon throw various objects of food at one another and argue over whether Spider-Man could beat Batman. I excused myself, stepping outside for a minute, and returned to a nearly empty room.

"I hate to break up this highly educational conversation," Professor Xavier interrupted looking between Iceman and Pyro, "but you're going to be late to your next class if you don't leave soon." I checked my watch again. I had precisely seven minutes before I had to report for my Literature class.

"I'll walk with you, if you want." Rogue offered, "I have the same class as you."

"Alright, cool." I said, bringing the plates to the sink. "Just leave'em. Robert'll clean them off. It's his turn to clean up today.

As we turned to walk away, a boy raised his hand and water sprayed out it wetting the dishes. He then looked at the soap and some tipped out of the container. He winked at us as we went by, as much as I wanted to stay and see what else he was going to do, I didn't want to be late for Storm's class.

The class was studying Lord Byron's 'Don Juan' and other Classical poets, I had read most of Byron's work. I was glad I wasn't too far behind, anything beat reading 'Romeo and Juliet.' Throughout middle-school and high-school my English classes had varied between '1984', 'Lord of the Flies' and 'Romeo and Juliet'. Our middle-school English teacher had taught Shakespeare's tragedy only to have her lessons retaught twice in freshman and junior years.

I'd been willing to re-read the play once, but when no one told the new English professor that we'd been through the material a year ago, I had been forced to study Shakespeare's play a third time. On the bright side, I knew almost all of Acts I-III by heart.

My next class was scheduled in the danger room, but I didn't know if I would have the ability to conjure the fire. I was too excited to be angry. This was the type of class I had always wanted to take. I'd brought the subject up to my parents once, a long time ago, hoping they'd try to understand.

Learning to sword-fight, knife-fight, when would I need to know those things, they'd asked. Horse-back riding they could relate to, but learning combat while riding the horse they couldn't. I didn't have much interest in martial arts, I wanted to know how the great ancients had fought. I got piano, violin and clarinet lessons instead.

When I got to the danger room I was dismayed by the lack of attendance. There were only four people waiting outside the doors and all of them looked apprehensive.

"Scott's not here today," one of the guys whispered to me, "I don't envy you this being your first day."

The steel panels slid open and Logan waited inside. "Well, come in, don't stand there looking at the door." The kids scurried inside and tried to hide behind one another.

"Everything is all set up. I assigned each of ya to one of those sections yesterday, right? The first person to get the flag gets tomorrow off."

The student's cheered in a very determined way and then headed towards different corners of the room. I noticed that it was raining, snowing, desert, and marsh. There was one section for each of them with a red flag in the distance. As I watched, Logan blew a whistle and started the simulation.

The kids ran toward the flag. As they did, objects came up to block their path. One of the girls, she had dark blonde hair tied into a ponytail, used little bursts of rock to knock the obstructions out of her way.

The other girl closed her fist a few seconds before she got to them, the obstacles would explode and she'd move through open space. The boy, who had whispered to me in the hallway, flicked his wrist and a dark black goo came from his fingertips which ate through them. The last, a rather cute, light-green eyed boy punched them out of his way without stopping.

"So you ignored the kids warnings and decided to take my class, huh?"

"I guess you could put it like that," I answered. "What am I going to do? It looks like all of the corners are accounted for."

"Naw, the first thing Charles wanted you to do was get you used to your powers. I'm here to help you with that. Follow me," he walked across the room and opened a glass door. He waited while I made my way across, dodging the kids as they ran and jumped over rocks and vines.

"I won't start the exercise until you're ready, ok? Tell me when you are, and then be prepared to fight them off." He waited by a switch in the wall his hand over the button.

Fight whom off? What was the objective? A quick glance at his face told me I wouldn't be getting any further information. The Professor wanted to know what I was capable of? I wasn't even sure of that answer.

Both Logan and the Professor had prepared for this. If the glass worked the way I hoped, nothing would be able to leave the room. I wouldn't hurt the other kids and, hopefully, I wouldn't incinerate myself.

I worked all the rage and anger to the surface. I pryed open the door that kept it all locked away. Power surged through my veins, I could let it out, finally giving it free rein. I wanted to try and take things slow, at first, so I wouldn't burn out. No pun intended.

I didn't know how deep the anger ran, how far I'd be able to push myself if the room behind the door drained dry. For now, however, there was plenty. I was ready, I wanted this, I nodded in Logan's direction and he pulled the switch.

I waited. My body was tense pulsing with eager anticipation. The farthest wall from me opened up to show a machine, sort of like one you'd find at a batting cage. It lowered itself so four stands rested on the floor, and a chute clicked into place. The adrenaline was pumping through my blood and I almost snarled as all of the taunts and jeers came back through my mind.

"Mutant freak, why don't you just go home."

"You're not human, go back from where you came from!"

The fire appeared and just in time. From the tunnel a clay target came barreling out. I threw the flame and blew the target up. More came, increasing in speed, I had a few moments where I was sure the target would hit me, but with that fear came determination. I blasted them away cursing them under my breath.

I forgot all about where I was and who was watching from the outside. I barely noticed that I was using both of my hands instead of just one. I jumped, dodged, ran, and aimed until I was out of breath. The anger was still there, so I continued until sweat ran down my face and I was close to collapsing. My body wanted to give out, but my mind raged at me to continue. I wasn't weak, the machine would keep throwing targets at me and I'd destroy them. By the time they stopped coming at me I had hit every one of the targets except for two that had clanged against the wall and shattered.

Nice job," Logan said. I almost threw a fireball his way, he startled me so much. "Oh yeah, Chuck's gonna be happy about this. I shoulda stopped the machine about twenty minutes ago, but you looked like you needed to work things out." I looked down at the floor my cheeks feeling hot. I had been paying so much attention to the targets that I'd ceased to listen to my body.

My legs and arms were shaking, my vision had blurred a few times, but I refused to fall onto the ground. That's what they had wanted, me down and staying down, I'd long since refused to give them the satisfaction.

"Yeah, well... if I hadn't been concentrating the things would have hit me." I evaded his statement and walked past him, "Is class over or is there a round two?" I asked.

"Alright, get on outta here," he said looking over to the kids. The green-eyed boy held up the flag triumphantly. "I got it, Professor!"

"Take tomorrow off," Logan said. "Nice work, the rest of you, see you all here tomorrow."

I sat on the floor, my back to the wall, elbows resting on my knees. For the first time in awhile I felt good, proud of myself, happy that I'd accomplished something difficult. I didn't know what levels the machine had been programmed to, for all I knew it could have been set to the easiest setting. None of that mattered, I had won in a fight against myself. I'd taken safety, comfort, weakness and dashed them to pieces.

I'd stayed standing, fighting despite pain and exhaustion and I had finished what I started. Class was over, I needed to get going. I wanted to shower, sleep and do it all over again tomorrow. I was looking forward to it. Rogue had said Logan tested instincts, stamina and strength, I revelled in it.

"You okay, kid? You look a little pale," Logan tossed me a water bottle, I accepted it thankfully. I needed to start drinking something other than carbonated caffeine, it kept me energized, but I dehydrated faster.

"I'm alright," I laughed between sips of water, "the pale thing comes and goes. Some days I'm moon-white while others I'm tan. Makes putting together an outfit hell."

"It's called lack of nutrition," Logan looked at my face, I didn't know what he was seeing. I probably looked like a raccoon with the eyeshadow running all over my face. "You need to eat more than a sandwich and a piece of fruit a day."

"I eat when I'm hungry," I shrugged meeting his glare.

"And how much do you sleep?"

"About as much as I eat," I grinned, "I don't do it on purpose, it wasn't because I was trying to loose weight or anything, I hate sleeping and I make food when my stomach yells at me."

I got to my feet ignoring the little white spots that danced across the vision. They would pass in a second and if they didn't I'd sit down again.

"Where did you learn to fight?" Logan asked looking at the piles of dust that had accumulated on the floor.

"Self-teaching is a marvelous thing," I replied. "I found trouble a little too often, learned how to defend myself, when to take the offensive. I read books, got friends to help progress my learning, watched movies and picked up moves. I applied what I'd learned to real life and acclimated quickly. Why?"

"Just curious," he shrugged, "that was a hell of a demonstration."

"I missed two of them."

"You were in there for an hour and a half, probably a little more than that. I know time ceased to matter for you, I saw the minute you let go and let your instincts guide you. Like I said, that was a helluva show."

"Is there going to be a round two?"

"Would you be willing, and able, to go another round?"

I thought about it. My body screamed no, but the door was still cracked open. All of that time and it hadn't ever fully opened.

"Probably not, but if you set it up I'll take'em down until one of them knocks me out."

Logan shook his head, "go sleep and eat something, kid. There's plenty of time to unleash all of that power tomorrow."

"You need help cleaning up?" There was a lot of dust on the ground, the room was covered in it, three inches deep in some places.

"I'm good, I don't do the cleaning, I do the teaching."

"Alright," I should have been stretching while we talked, my body was cramping up, My muscles didn't want to move the way I needed them to. Ah, well, I'd felt worse. Maybe I'd take the elevator tonight, I shook my head, what would be the fun in that?

"Hey, kid."

I looked back at Logan feeling the determination and power vie for surpremacy, if he was going to ask me to go back in the room, I was ready.

"Do you always aim to kill?"

"What?" I was confused, the words made sense, maybe I was too tired to understand them properly.

"When I watched you fight, I noticed something. You fought brutally, made me wonder what would happen if I put men in there with you instead of targets. No mercy, least amount of effort for maximum damage. Did anyone teach you that? You read about it or pick it up in a movie?"

"Nope," I thought about his words, funny how they didn't seem so scary.

"The best defense is a good offense."

"I know," I waved and left the room. Man, my body hurt, but in such a good way. I passed the elevator and walked up the stairs, I needed time to let my body adjust to the workout I'd put it through. I laughed to myself as I all but dragged my body up the stairs. Bobby had been right about the not being able to walk out of the room after the lesson. Damn if it didn't feel good, though.

Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

I used the hottest water I could stand knowing that the heat would relax the muscles in my arms and legs. It was the best I could do at the moment, if I'd warmed up before hand or streched after I wouldn't feel nearly as bad. I'd try to remember that next time.

I had only planned to lay down for a few minutes, I'd go downstairs, eat dinner, and then sleep for a good nine hours. As it was, I woke up around midnight and was unable to fall back asleep. I read for awhile and wrote an e-mail to Chris.

He was a good friend, I missed him. Tall, blonde-haired, as ready for change as I had been. We had gotten along from the moment we'd met. He was an artist, I was a writer, we had a nice equilibrium in that regard because he'd draw pictures and I'd write stories for them.

Chris had left about a month ago, his family had opted to go on a cruise. Slightly eccentric, they thought nothing of taking him out of school in order to go on vacation. We both had parental issues, thoughts of freedom.

It bothered me that he would get back to Jersey and hear all the rumors without me there to defend myself. Though, in a way, I wouldn't need to offer any defense, he'd watch out for me no matter what.

I wrote a couple of paragrahs to tell him that I was safe and had no intention of ever returning. I told him a little about Professor Xavier, the classes I was taking, and the people I'd met without giving too much away.

Chris had always been open-minded, something we had in common, and I hope he'd forgive me one day for taking off without him. He was a good friend, we'd fought back to back a few times as we'd both hated high-school and the people residing within the building.

I tuned into an online metal radio station and put the volume low. Laying down I managed to doze off again around four.

- - -

My stomach was growling. Angry, vicious sounds that was followed by churning and light-headedness. I needed to eat something. I glanced at the clock, it was five in the morning. At least I'd gotten plenty of sleep.

I sighed as I prepared to stand up. I vaguely remembered my three hour, had it been, stint. Pain, pain, oh, burning pain, but none of it bad. I had no one to blame but myself. I realized that I wasn't dreading the oncoming day. I was looking forward to it, I wanted it. I couldn't wait to face whatever Danger Room challenge Logan had planned. Even Scott, if he was taking over the lessons for today, I wanted to see what his teaching methods were.

I walked over to my closet, that hadn't been so difficult. The burning pain was now just a dull ache. That would go away in a couple days as my body got used to it.

Today's outfit, what would it be?

I dressed in a pair of five-pocketed black pants, a tank top with a goth purple fairy decal, and my combat boots. The pants would be better for today's Danger Room exercise, I have better maneuverability in these.

The mirror terrified me, I stared into it with horror. Black eyeshadow ran halfway down my face, my skin was the moon-white pale I'd described to Logan. I had, however, lost a lot of weight. I no longer cringed when I stepped onto a scale. The Mansion's scale had read one-hundred twenty two pounds. Much better than the one-forty I'd been pushing. Okay, I took a deep breath, bathroom, makeup, food, first class. Better get moving, I had no time to waste.

- - -

I was outside finishing my morning cigarette, proud of myself for having eaten a few pancakes and some sausage links when I heard the Professor.

{Your parents are pulling up the gate. I'm going to have them brought to my office...} he left off in mid-sentence. I understood that he wanted me there when they walked in.

I wanted to run. I could do it, get my bags packed, sneak out before anyone realized I was gone. It was cowardly, but I'd rather be free than trapped again. My pride would get over it, it'd be so easy. I still had a good amount of money left. The idea was plausible.

Ashes blew away with the wind, I remained still. I was afraid to move for fear I'd start running and not look back. I had to consider the options without panic clouding my mind, Professor Xavier's School was the closest thing I'd be able to find for help with my abilities. I could easily see the School becoming my home.

I'd made a few friends, I could improve a lot when it came to my social skills. I no longer started when Jubilee put her arm around my shoulders or ran up to me with some new piece of news. Small steps, but an improvement, I thought.

Rogue and I were friends because of the things we didn't say. The poignant silence where understanding flashed between us, loners, she and I had been. Was I still? I had the tendencies, but was it true?

Kitty, even, had started growing on me. I was used to her exuberant way of speaking. I found myself wanting to protect her, she seemed so innocent. Bobby, too, in a way seemed rather pure. Jon, however, is dark like I am. We share similar opinions on how the world is run, cynically misanthropic, I believe the terms would be. Not so much on the latter, I was changing, becoming someone new.

It terrified me, but I'd be damned if I ran before seeing this to its conclusion. I had something I wanted to learn about myself. Something Logan had said about my aiming to kill. I doubted that would ever change, but I didn't have to bring everyone down with me.

And, to think, I had been excited about today. Today with all its hopeful aspirations. I'd convince my parents to let me stay, I had no other course of action. I wouldn't be able to make the decision for myself, I needed their permission because I was underage. I could persuade them in my favor, it would take some manipulation, a little under-handed, but I knew what I wanted and wasn't about to let it all be taken away.

As I got to the office, the Professor gave me an encouraging smile. I sat down on the sofa waiting for them to arrive. It would be any second now.

"Kaldraya," my mom said as soon as she saw me. She engulfed me in a huge hug before pulling holding me an arm's length away. I knew this look, it was the angry look, the stare that meant bad things were about to befall me.

My blonde-haired sister perched on the couch disdainfully staring ath the Professor. She was pouting, arms crossed, one leg crossed over the other. My father had said nothing though he was glowering as he looked between Xavier and me.

"Thank you for coming." the Professor said before they could start yelling at me, "as you can see, she's doing fine and is quite safe here. Kaldraya has started classes-"

"Why did you leave," my father demanded, paying hardly any attention to what the Professor had said. I silently apologized for him, hoping that his telepathy allowed him to not only send thoughts, but to receive them as well.

"I terrified all of you, you can't deny that. I left a note before I left, I figured you'd be happy to have me gone what with the crying and locking yourselves away in the house. I needed help, I went to find someone who'd be able to assist me."

"I'm your father," my dad bellowed, "I'd have found a way to take care of your problem."

"It's not a _problem_, dad," I kept my voice calm knowing that yelling at him wasn't going to do anything, "its not a curse or some disease that you can cure."

"He can," my father pointed at Charles, "you, you can fix this, can't you? You can make my daughter normal again? Without any of her angry, violent crap?"

"I am normal, why can't you see that? Just because I have a few new abilities doesn't mean I've become an entirely different person. You all never saw it because you wanted me to be something I won't ever be able to adhere to."

"How can you say that?" my sister asked sarcastically "everyone notices you. You make sure of that."

"Ella," my mother reprimanded. "We _do_ care Kaldraya, it was a shock though, not exactly something that we go through every day."

"But you didn't want to talk to me about it. Most of the time you were either afraid of me or crying. I'd heard about this place and thought it sounded perfect. Professor Xavier helps me with my powers, helps me learn to control them. He's really helped me... I'm sure you'll realize that once you give him a chance."

My mother looked at me through wide eyes, as though she only just realized that I wasn't a child anymore.

"You," my dad pointed, "you're going to fix this, aren't you?"

He hadn't heard anything we'd said. I glanced to the Professor who regarded my father calmly.

"Dad, like I said, this isn't something you can fix."

My dad had his arms crossed and stiffly sat down in one of the chairs around the desk. My mother followed suit, but my sister still glared mutinously at me. Aware of the animosity, Charles interrupted her obviously heated thoughts of me.

"Why don't you show your sister around while I talk to your parents," he suggested.

"Sounds like a great idea," I said, taking her arm and pulling her out of the room. I closed the door behind me hearing my father's voice clearly through the door. My sympathies were with Professor Xavier. I hoped he would be able to calm my parents down, talk some sense into them.

Ella waited until we were around the corner before pulling her arm away as if I repulsed her.

"How could you do that to me Kaldraya? 'Your sister is such a freak.' 'Are you going to be a mutant next?' 'What's wrong with your family?'" She mimicked their insults. "You tried to ruin my reputation at school. Are you happy with yourself?"

"You and your friends," I snarled, "that's all you care about. Do you have any concern for me at all? Do you know what it was like? Things were happening to me and all you cared about were the new clothes you wanted, parties, and insulting me so in the hopes of being popular."

"Well, it worked didn't it," she smiled gleefully, "I slandered your name, got them to like me despite everything you did to me. You lost, I won, and now you're gone, banished I told them, and they think I'm the amazing for having survived living with you."

"I can't believe you," she had always been selfish and cold, but this was above and beyond her usual callousness, "I never did any of that to hurt you. Unlike you, I don't use other people's misery and pain to my advantage."

"But you liked the attention! You always have! At least admit it!"

"I won't admit to what's not true. You're lying to yourself, Ella, at last admit that to yourself."

"Why? You're not even ashamed of being a mutant," she yelled, "you don't care at all! You're a freak and you don't even care!"

"Lower your voice," I hissed. "There are other people that board here. They don't need to hear your insults."

"Other freaks! You and your kind," she screamed out of spite, "well, fine, you stay here with these _mutants_. Perversions of nature, all of them."

"Is there a problem here? What's going on?" I whirled around hoping that he hadn't heard what my sister had said.

"Um, no, no problem. It's just, er, my sister Ella." I stammered. Ella was staring at Logan with a mix of fear and revulsion.

"What are you a mutant, too," she asked raking him with a disdainful stare. Logan's eyes narrowed and I met his gaze pleading with him to understand that she meant no harm.

"Leave him alone," I warned.

"Or you'll what? You've always associated with criminals, convicts, and freaks. He looks just like them."

I glanced at Logan, his eyes were narrowed even further. He was afairly radiating with fury and power, I could feel the brush of it against my skin. Anger, rage, I could feel when people were likewise afflicted and their emotions fueled my own. I had to stay in control, I couldn't destroy my sister, tear my family apart, because I'd lost my temper.

"Shut-up," I emphasized each word. "Everyone here is a human being, I can't believe you would be so narrow-minded as not to see that. All you care about is what other people think, how they see you, and I'm sorry for you. I'm sorry that I wasn't able to give you a better opinion of yourself, of people. I'm sorry that you turned out to be so self-centered."

"You feel sorry for me," her voice rose another couple of notches. "I hope you _do_ end up staying here. I'm sure you'd prefer staying with other abnormal people like you. Don't ever come back Kaldraya, I hate you! I hate you for what you've done to me."

I didn't say anything in return, there was nothing too say anyway. She had made up her mind, and if truth be told I didn't care one way or the other.

{Kaldraya, your parents are ready to go home.} Xavier called me.

"C'mon. Mom and Dad are ready to leave." I sighed sarcastically, "you'll surely be wanting to get home as soon as you can."

"How do you know that they're ready? We're certainly too far for..."

"Leave," Logan snapped.

Ella looked taken aback and even a little frightened, but she didn't say another word. Logan took hold of my shoulder as I went to follow her back into the office.

"You okay," he asked, searching my eyes. I was so angry I could feel the tears in my eyes, my body was shaking, I know he noticed it. I blinked them away, took a deep breath, gathered all of the anger and hurt together into one mass and locked it behind the door.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" I even managed a short laugh. "That's Ella for you." Logan growled softly and lit his cigar muttering curses under his breath.

"We've decided that you should stay. We think it'll do you good. Just call us if you need something," My father said briskly.

"Yes, don't hesitate to call." My mother added, "we love you." I followed them out to their car and watched as they drove away. No hugs, no questions for me, typical family life? I wouldn't know, I had nothing to compare it to. No one waved, my mother and father were arguing about something, and Ella sat in the backseat listening to her I-pod.

I could imagine the look of satisfaction in her violet eyes. When had she become so arrogant? I refused to take responsibility, the two of us had nothing in common, went out of our way to avoid the other. I hoped she'd have a good life, I had no intention of talking to her again.

When I went back inside, Logan was talking to Xavier, but he looked in my direction as I walked through the door. I shrugged, smiled, and checked my watch. Nine forty-five, good, I had time to get my notebooks, a pen and head to class.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The Danger Room was set up differently today. The three kids would work together in order to escort a girl back to her town. Something like that, I wasn't sure on the specifics. I was still training, the Professor didn't want me with the other kids until he was sure I wouldnt, you know, incinerate them.

"There are going to be people today instead of clay targets," Logan told me standing near the switch. "Whenever you're ready, let me know."

It wasn't difficult for me to call the anger. Ella had done wonders in stocking the area behind the door. I nodded my head not needing any time to prepare myself. It was there, ready for me, waiting to be unleashed.

A soldier appeared, saw me, and crouched into a defensive stance. I didn't want to use the flames just yet, I wanted a good knock-down fight before I started using my abilities. The soldier aimed a punch at my stomach, I blocked the attack and assaulted him.

A punch to his face, a kick to his leg, I brought my knee up into his stomach. I dodged, parried, and blocked all his attempts to hurt me. I wasn't nearly as proficient as Logan had been. I let emotion fuel me rather than cold, rational thinking.

I was being clumsy, but I didn't care. The first soldier went down to be followed by two more that had materialized. My arm had gone numb, one of them had it twisted behind my back as another stood in front of me.

I leaned back into the guy holding me and moved my leg between his. I wrapped my foot around his ankleand pulled my arm free at the same time. The second soldier hit the ground, I was off-balance, but that was okay. The soldier who had been standing in front of me moved in to grab me by my shoulders. I head-butt him in the face and used the momentum to send him crashing to the floor.

Both of them disappeared, three more emerged. I put my back to the wall catching my breath as the three advanced. This would be more difficult, I studied the three men. One was taller than the other two, another was broad in the shoulders, the third was thin, lean.

I dropped into a crouch and knocked the lean one's legs out from under him. In a whirling kick, I caught the tall guy in his chest. He didn't fall, but he stumbled back and hit the wall behind him. The third punched me in the face. I saw it coming, had no time to react, My vision erupted with little flashes of white, I couldn't feel the right side of my face.

I glared at the two that remained feeling my anger crash and roar over me. I tended to lose control after being hit anywhere from my neck up. I saw red, wanted blood and gave in to the primal feeling.

With a roar, I drove my foot into the broad-shouldered man's kneecap. I heard a bone crunch and laughed as he fell and dematerialized. At least they disappeared after hitting the ground, though I guess that was the point of this exercise. Defense, offense, once you hit the floor, you were usually done in a fight.

I caught the third as he rushed me, I used all the strength I had to keep the propulsion going, I rammed his head into the glass wall. I snarled as I did it a second time. No more, no need for excessive brutality. I grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed, threw, him to the ground.

I waited for four to appear, I'd have to use the flames for them. I didn't trust in my capability to handle four of them at once. Adrenaline was pumping, I felt powerful, confident. It wasn't until the four didn't show that I realized Logan was standing in the doorway.

"What?" I asked confused.

He had an eyebrow raised as he looked at me. "You're supposed to be using your powers..."

"I thought this was an exercise in combat and survival. My abilities are sort-of long range, I, er, was trying to gain some distance?" I smiled innocently knowing he'd be able to see through the ruse.

"No, no, I wasn't berating you," Logan clarified, "not encouraging, but try to mix it up, okay?"

"I'd planned to," I grinned, "I can't take more than four guys by myself."

Logan shut the door and my world turned upside down. Literally. He hadn't given me any warning, that bastard. A simple 'watch out behind you' would have sufficed. One of the four new guys had picked me up.

I hit the wall back first, when I hit the floor I'd expected the men to disappear. They didn't. I forced myself to stand despite the ringing in my head and the dizziness that skewered my vision. I conjured a fireball and threw it at the nearest man. Two more were taken out in the same way. My body ached, my shoulder may have been sprained from hitting the floor so hard. It hurt to breathe, but I'd been through all of this before, it would pass if I had a few moments to catch my breath.

Falling onto concrete after being thrown into a car door hurt more than the smooth glass and tile of the room. The men fought as if it were a real fight, but they hit lightly. I'd been hit full-force before, had taken beatings that left me incapable of standing after the fight was over. This exercise wasn't on the same scale.

I ran from the fourth throwing a fourth ball of fire over my shoulder. I'd have a few seconds before more came after me.

"Are weapons permissable?"

Logan was watching the kids face off against some sort of machine. I didn't have time to watch any further because five more men had appeared. I grabbed the knife from my boot and braced for them.

The room was large enough that had I wanted to, I could have ran to the opposite wall and taken out the previous men with fire. It had been my decision to stay up close and personal, but I quickly changed my mind. These men were taller, stronger, and seemed more hostile than those I had defeated.

I didn't feel like a coward, I wouldn't leave the room, but I needed time to strategize. Why take them on and sustain injuries that weren't necessary. I'd learned long ago that by taking a small blow to my pride could save my life in the long run. So, therefore, it wasn't really cowardly, it was realistic. After all, what use was there in offering myself as a human punching bag?

I threw a fireball before I turned to run, the guy I'd been aiming for dodged it.

"Shit," I muttered changing from running to quickly walking backwards. I didn't want my back turned on any of these assailants anymore.

"Time to wrap things up," I heard Logan yell to the kids.

"No," I growled to myself, I wanted to finish this. I was tired, drained, but I felt so alive. Free. Powerful. I'd always had to keep myself in check, to be careful I didn't kill anyone, but no longer, with these simulations I could do whatever I wanted.

I used both hands, I fired a ball of flame, as he dodged I launched a second one. The man fell, good, at least I had a strategy.

The four broke into a run, I did the same thing managing to take another down. Three left, this was plausible. I didn't have enough energy for a long-lasting battle, but if I aimed for efficiency it'd be possible to win.

I had my knife, a new way of fighting, this could be fun. I saw Logan press a button out of the corner of my eye. What had he done? Would this work? Oh well, I thought, there was nothing to do but try.

I rammed my knife into the man that reached me first, the weapon slid into his stomach and I pulled up. If he were alive his intestines would be spilling out onto the floor, but being a simulation, the man disappeared. I used the knife to cut a long gash against the second man's throat, he, too, was gone in an instant leaving one left.

I felt myself smile, this could be a lot of fun. I felt my leg give out, one of them had kicked me. I drove my knife into his thigh and used the palm of my hand to knock his head back. I fell onto my injured shoulder, felt myself being pulled to my feet by the neck. His fingers dug hard into my skin, if it had been my throat I'd be strangling.

I had my back to him, I couldn't see what his intentions were. I reached up, grabbed his arms as if helping him. I gained some leverage, my feet were back on the floor, but the man hadn't stopped. I fought to free myself, my legs kicked at empty air, I could feel strength gaining in his arm. He was going to try to throw me into something, someone, and depending on how hard his throw would be... I couldn't let that happen.

I closed my eyes trying to feel the man holding me captive. They weren't alive, they didn't give off body heat, but I managed to find a general impression. I twisted the knife in my hand, if I dropped it, I'd be out of options.

I dug my nails into the guy's arm to keep from swaying, then, before he could let go of me, I brought my knife back. I felt it connect, would it stop him? It would be dangerous, but I had to do something, I needed to get closer. The guy was shaking me, trying to get my nails out of his arm and the knife away from his chest.

It was a long shot, but... I used my legs to angle myself I swung a little closer. It was time. Both of my knees were bent as if I were kneeling with my legs open. I wrapped my legs around the man's hips and slid the knife into his body. I didn't know where exactly the weapon penetrated, but it was somewhere over his chest.

The man disappeared and I fell to the floor. One of my knees hit the ground first, I'd be bruised there later. I caught myself with my hands so I didn't fall onto my face.

"Ow," I mumbled as the knife bit into my hand. The blade was flat against the ground, but my palm rubbed against it.

I looked up, saw the three kids staring at me. Some of them looked impressed, others looked terrified. I glanced at Logan, he had turned the switch. I guess that was the end. I rollled onto my side groaning as my shoulder scraped against the floor.

"You ok, kid?" Logan opened the door and crouched next to me.

"Yeah, I'm alright," I panted. I needed a minute, or an hour, my body was a mass of dull pain. My hand wasn't bleeding, my power had taken care of that, but aparently my body could only heal itself from open wounds.

"Go on, class is over," Logan addressed the students, they walked away whispering amongst themselves.

"Shit, that hurt," I had managed to sit up, a new wave of aches and pain followed the motion. "Did I do alright?"

"Yeah," he snorted, "more than alright. You got damn lucky there toward the end."

"Don't I know it," I grit my teeth, it was time to try and stand up. The anger was an amazing thing, it gave me the energy and fortitude needed to deal with whatever came at me. Once the anger was gone, the rage dissipated, I felt the toll that had on my body. It both thrilled and scared me that I could, inadvertently, one day push my body until it'd give out on me of its own accord. I lifted my pants leg, a bruise was blossoming on my leg from where I'd been kicked. It hadn't hurt nearly as much when it first happened.

I gingerly touched the skin on the back of my neck, yea, that was tender, too. Logan offered me a hand, I took it and he supported most of my weight as I stood up. The room didn't spin, that was an improvement. I tried to take a step forward and my knee buckled. Oops. I'd forgotten about falling to the ground, too soon to try walking.

Logan caught me around the waist steadying me as I stood on one foot stretching out my injured leg. I bent it at the knee and my nails accidentally bit into his arm as I smothered the sound of pain.

"Sorry," I grunted, at least it wasn't dislocated or broken.

"You should see Jean," Logan helped me walk to a wall.

"It's not that bad," I said leaning against it.

He paused before speaking, "I was watching you through most of that. You took quite a beating from them. I'd have stopped it when you got thrown against the wall, but you got back up. You'd have said something if you wanted the exercise stopped, right?"

"Yeah," I grinned, "you took that on faith?"

"I follow my instincts when it comes to people," he smiled wryly, "if you'd hesitated or looked at me, I'd have turned the room off."

"Are there levels to the room? How does that work? Why are they able to pick me up, my weapons can hurt them, but they're simulated..."

"There are levels, yes, beginner, intermediate, advanced, and three more after that. They can be programmed to respond to movement, attacks, it all depends on what you set it for."

"What was this set on?"

"Intermediate," he replied, "but I made it more difficult by-- can you walk?"

"Sure," I pushed away from the wall and took a tentative step forward. Yes, I could walk

"Okay then, c'mere, I'll show you."

We made our way to the control panel, it was all touch-screen oriented. You could input how many people were in the room, a time period, everything he'd explained was there. It didn't seem that difficult to operate, it was very concise and clear cut. There were many scenarios to choose from, escort missions, survival, one on one, training with weapons of all kinds, the list seemed infinite.

"So how would you rank me?"

"You fight well," he stated, "some training would be goodfor you, a lot of your attacks seem ruled by luck rather than surety. Learning to fight on the street'll do that to ya. Polishing up some of your moves would be good, you'd be formiddable should you learn to time and execute the damage you do. You have good reflexes, a keen eye, and you're willing to be hurt in order to take the other man down. Not bad, all in all."

"I'd like to see you fight one day, something like today's, I'm curious. You have professional training, right?"

"Yeah," he shook his head, "I've used this room many times to practice, hone skills, for fun."

"Cool," I laughed, "would you demonstrate one day?"

"I guess," he turned the machine off again, "how did you do that last move? Have you ever done it before?"

I hesitated before answering, I'd never killed anyone, but would it be wise to admit to something like that? I'd seen him rip through a few men, he had metal claws, for goodness sake, what was the harm?

"No, I've never done that particular thing before, but I saw an opportunity and didn't know of anything else I could do to get him off me."

"Huh," there was something in his eyes I couldn't read, "it was damn... innovative."

"Er, thanks," I thought back to how it must have looked to people watching. I fought not to blush, not good, it would have been embarrasing had it not been justified. My legs wrapped backwards around the man's waist, whatever, survival or nothing. "You rigged the machine to respond to weapons, didn't you."

"I saw you pull a knife," he laughed, "variation, alright. I did ask for it."

"I like my knife," I said partly defensive, "there were five guys in the room, I might be able to take them down, but its a lot faster with a weapon."

"I know, kid," he held up a hand, "it's a lot faster with weapons."

I laughed, of course he knew, he knew so much more than I'd ever learn. "You know... you can call me Draya if you want. Um, or Fira, it doesn't matter. You told me your name, I forgot to tell you mine."

"Fira, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah Jubilee, Rogue, and Kitty came up with it."

"It suits ya," he replied.

I stared at him for a minute, things were taking a dangerous turn. I reminded myself that he was my teacher, that he'd never do anything with a student. I liked him because he related to me on a deeper level, he had the same violence in him, though his rage was definitely more terrifying than mine.

He was wearing a gray undershirt with a flannel shirt over it. His jeans weren't ripped, but they looked worn in. Black boots that were scuffed and torn in places completed the ensemble. I had known teenagers, guys who lived off the street, a few teachers I'd had crushes on in the past.

None of them were masculine like Logan, none of them had the same feral power that he exuded. I was attracted to his power, protection, I wanted safety and reassuring. I was attracted to that, he was the first person I'd met, he saved me, those things together equaled attraction of some kind, that's all.

I looked around the room trying to keep all emotion from my face. He couldn't know, I'd be mortified, it was bad enough that I'd acknowledged it to myself. I didn't want him to find out and have the comfrotable aura I felt when with him banished. I knew myself enough to know I could be friends with someone I felt attracted to. There were layers to it, though nothing could ever happen with him, I still wanted to be his friend. I noticed a black leather jacket in the corner of the room. He never had a jacket with him.

"Are you going somewhere," I inquired, that was the only explanation I could come up with.

"Yeah, I'm runnin' low on cash. I'm gonna go around and make some more," he said cryptically.

"If you don't mind me asking... what kind of job are you going to get?" I was remembering some of the things I'd done when I was low on money. He didn't seem the type to fall into some of my old 'work.'

"Bar fights. I know about some bars that have competitions, if ya stay in the rink without passin' out or gettin' beat up to bad... there's a lotta cash to be made that way," he explained.

"Cool." I wish I'd known about those, though whether or not they accepted women was up for grabs.

"Yeah, so anyway Cyke's gonna be taking over my class for a coupla days. And, just so you know, there's no password for the room. Turn the switch, set it up, and the room's ready to go."

"Why are you --- oh!" I knew now what he was trying to tell me. He saw way too much. So long as he didn't see what I most wanted to hide, that was fine by me. "Thank you."

"Keep it to intermediate, set it so it to stop when blood hits the floor. Keep the door open, leave if things get out of hand. Nothing can leave the room."

"Thank you, really," this would be great. I could work on some of my moves, unwind when I was thinking too hard about the past. I had been worried about that, every now and then I'd find fights when bored with life. I couldn't do that now that I lived at the Mansion, but he'd given me a way to release some of the rage.

"See Jean about that leg, alright?"

"If it gets worse," I smiled.

"You're ok? You can walk, right, to get upstairs?"

"Yes," I'd tested it out, my body was in working order, some pain and bruises, but nothing that would prevent me from moving around.

"Right, well, see ya Fira," he buried his hand in his pocket and then took out the cigar with his other. I watched him shrug into his leather jacket, check the pockets for keys, he nodded to himself, at me, and then left the room.

I'd miss him, I realized, groaning when I pulled up my pants leg to check my knee. It was purple already, damnit. I missed Chris, too, this was the first time I'd really be alone since coming to the Mansion. I hadn't gone out of my way to find Logan, but knowing he was around made me feel better.

I wasn't the type that needed a man in order to be secure, but... I cursed under my breath as I made my way to the shower. What was it about him? I needed to clear my head, to think straight, it was impossible. I'd go out of my way to meet some more of the people here, Jon was interesting, maybe I'd call Chris later and see if he'd gotten home yet. And, if all else failed, I could always go back to the Danger Room later.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

I slept well that night, no dreams or nightmares to face. As I climbed through the layers of drowsiness, I was glad to see that it was raining out. It was about seven o'clock, I had an hour before class with Scott. I got dressed only wincing a little at the ache in my shoulder and knee.

Surprisingly that was the only thing that hurt and just when I raised my arm above my head. I decided to put my hair up, if the training course was going to be outside, I didn't want my hair to get in my way.

I stopped in front of the mirror on my way out of the room. I stared at myself, I had changed a lot since when I'd left. My hair was still the same, long and raven black. My eyes were different though, instead of serene and calm they looked more darker, serious, not as light-hearted as they'd once been. My face was blemish-free and slightly tanned like it had always been.

I wore a red long-sleeved shirt under a short-sleeved black one with black jeans, which accentuated my dark green, almost black eyes. There had been a point in my life where my eyes had been the only thing I liked about myself. I'd since lost about fifty pounds, grew up, learned how to fight, and left home. Not bad, all in all, could be worse, right?

Taking one last glance to make sure that I looked presentable, I closed the door behind me. Rogue was just coming out of her room, too, yawning slightly and dressed in black pants and a ripped purple sweatshirt, underneath a black tank top. The look suited her perfectly.

"Hi Fira," she said blinking her eyes as if to focus them.

"Morning," I replied. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired I guess." She sighed, stretching, "Logan left, you know."

"Um, yeah, he told me. I hope he'll be back soon." I said, wondering where this conversation was leading. I didn't have long to wait...

"So what's up between the two of you? You like him?" she asked.

"No, I don't like him, at least the way you mean. He helped me out and he's a friend. That's all. How're you and Bobby?" I questioned, changing the subject.

The question hit too close to home. If she had seen it, who else had? Ah, well, the two of them seemed to have a history. Perhaps she had liked him somewhere down the line, too.

"Oh, Bobby's good. He's been all tied up with that new game they installed downstairs. It's funny really, he sits there all day watching a screen hardly moving. I have to admit, though, it's a really good game."

"Cool, yeah, I noticed that last night. Some of the guys were sitting on the floor, cursing and yelling at something onscreen. I'll have to check that out as soon as I can get a place," Rogue laughed.

"Good luck trying. I couldn't make them move an inch even when I threatened to unplug the thing."

"Heya, guys!" Kitty said joining us, "it's like, the worst weather out. I hope Scott doesn't make us train out there today."

"Hey, what's wrong with rain? I think it'll be fun," I had wanted to go outside and stand in the rain before class, I hoped Scott would bring up outside. It'd be a waste of a downpour if he didn't.

"But think of the, like, total damage it'd do to your hair!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah that would be a total catastrophe," I replied sarcastically, but with no malice meant. My sarcasm was lost on Kitty who agreed as though glad I had come to my senses.

"Talking about rain, did you see the new kid standing downstairs? He's drenched and looks totally mean. I saw him a few minutes ago, kinda scary, you know?" Kitty asked a grim look on her face.

"Alright, well I'm on my way down there, anyway. I'll catch up with you guys later." I waved good-bye and then headed down to the front hall. So a new boy looked 'mean' did he? I had to see that first hand.

As I went down the stairs the first thing I noticed was that he was pretty tall. At least four inches taller than me, and I was 5'8. He had dark blonde hair, which was short and slightly spiked. A black hoodie stuck to his lean frame, his back goth pants dripped small puddles of water on the carpet.

I couldn't see his face because he was standing with his back towards me, but from the looks of what he was wearing it definitely would explain why Kitty had thought he was mean. His hoodie was pulled up at the sleeves revealing black spiked bracelets on one arm and a leather wristband watch on the other. He had chains on his pants and a dagger chain around his neck.

"Do you need any help?" I asked, careful not to surprise him. He turned and I broke out in a huge smile. I couldn't help it. I knew who he was. His eyes were dark blue but they became a greener color when the light hit them at a certain angle. With a red dragon on the pocket of his pants and blue flames surrounding a sword... it was Chris! I should have known from the necklace, I'd bribed him with many things to try and win it from him.

"What are you doing here?" I exclaimed, "its great to see you again!"

"Kaldraya! I'd heard you were here, but I didn't want to get my hopes up, you'd always talked about travelling. It's good to know someone here, I should have figured you'd have found Xavier's," he replied. When he smiled it changed his face so much that I actually stared at him for a moment.

I hadn't seen him for over a year, the last time had been when he went on the cruise. When he first had turned towards me his eyes had been dark, a wary and aggressive air around him. Now he was friendly and relaxed, the way it had always been between us.

"The rumors were probably all true, but what are you here for? You didn't get my e-mail, I guess, I explained everything then."

"Powers. My parents didn't much like them too much." he smiled wryly, "and so they decided that this was the best place for me to go. It's the end of school now, anyway, so it'll be cool to start new, ya know?"

"I get what you mean," I replied. "When did you get back?"

"Just in time for school to be near its end. I went looking for you and I heard Josh and his friends talking about how you incinerated a classroom," he looked at me in question.

"I did _not_ incinerate a classroom. I just may have burned it a little. Shut up! It needed redecorating anyway...." I trailed off when Chris burst out laughing.

"Redecorating? The room's barred off from the rest of the school," he laughed even harder.

"Oh," I hadn't thought the damage was that bad, "ah, well. Not that people went to class in the first place."

"So, what can you do," he asked smiling in expectation. I didn't have to concentrate all that hard before a green flame conjured in my hand. It was kind of pretty, in a lethal way, dark at the edges and a jade color in the middle.

"Cool! Check this out..." he held out a penny and then threw it into the air. A stream of extremely bright fire exploded into the air, enveloping the penny, reducing it to a fine ash.

"Wicked," I exclaimed.

"Yeah, but it wont hurt people. See," he aimed the fire towards his arm. Before it could touch his skin, it dematerialized. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," I didn't even have to hesitate in answering. I held out my arm waiting for him to aim the fire at me. I refused to wince away, I trusted him enough not to hurt me. At the last possible second the fire dissolved, I couldn't help releasing the breath I'd been holding. I had felt the heat from the fire, my skin felt warm so hot had the flames been.

"Scared were you," he asked, a teasing light coming to his eyes.

"Not at all," I lied. "Why should I have been?"

Before I could answer I saw the Professor approach from behind Chris. He felt the presence and changed his stance so he stood to the side, his back against the banister of the stairs. Instincts, we'd both learned to develop them.

"If you don't hurry to your next class, Kaldraya, I'm afraid that you're going to be late," he said not unkindly. "Welcome to the school, Christopher."

I chanced a glance over in his direction. It was as if a veil had been dropped over his features. There was a coldness to his eyes that I had never seen before outside of a fight, and they were a deep sapphire color, which I usually took to mean anger. He was evaluating Xavier, I was sure of that at least, but I couldn't discern any of what he was thinking, his expression was too guarded for that.

"How do you know my name," he asked at last.

"I know a lot about you." Xavier answered, "I've known of you for some time now. I was wondering when you would find your way here."

"How did you—"he started to say.

"Your parents informed of everything. You didn't arrive as scheduled so I assume your arrival here is answer to that which you didn't find in your travels." I was confused, he had finished school and then went wandering? I didn't understand and unfortunately I didn't have the time to ask.

I said good-bye to them then leaving them to get to know one another. I saw them go towards the office, but before Chris went inside he caught my glance and grinned mischievously. Then he threw a line of fire at me. I laughed softly and let them come within inches of my stomach without moving. I stuck my tongue out at him and then I knew that I'd won when he turned and went into the office.

* * *

Classes went by quickly. Cyclops,' Professor Summers', was inadvertently granted Kitty's wish. We hadn't gotten a chance to head outside, though with the Danger Room's abilities, it wasn't necessary for It was a lesson in accuracy, which I passed quite easily, thanks to Logan's training.

I could understand why Pyro liked Cyclops' classes better, his were a lot more relaxed and less vigorous. Professor Summers explained everything a great deal while Logan gave the basics while letting us figure things out on their own and react accordingly. Scott liked precision, rules, and a concise lesson plan.

It was fine, pretty easy, all things considering, and the kids in the class seemed to appreciate his methods better than Logan's. To each their own, I guess, right?

In English we were reading "Catcher In the Rye" by J.D Salinger. I'd already read the book a number of times, so I was all ready for the debate we were going to have the next day. In History we were studying the Ancient Egyptians and I'd already done that in my other school, as well. All in all, it was just basically review and easy going for the end of the year classes.

Some of the kids were going home for the summer, I hadn't planned on it. Ella would probably be much happier that way and, if truth be told, I didn't really want to go back there, anyway. Jubilee and Kitty were staying, I knew, and Rogue, too, I wasn't sure about Iceman and Pyro, but it didn't matter much to me. I'd have remained in the Mansion had it been empty to keep from facing a miserable summer surrounded by people I didn't care about

I was going to light a cigarette when red flames took care of the problem.

"Still smoking, huh?"

"Only with my oxygen," I smiled. Chris' bags were gone, but he still wore the chains and bracelet. He'd added a blue flame watch and a black leather arm guard with safety pins coming out of it.

"Hey," I greeted him, "so what classes did you get?" He showed me his schedule and I was glad to see that we had every class together except for two. He had taken a course on computer science whereas I'd opted for Chemistry, Statistics instead of Ancient History.

"So what're the teachers like," he asked.

"They're pretty cool, you know, dedicated. I noticed you didn't take Auto?"

"Nope," he raised his eyebrow, "I know my way around cars and bikes, I took shop at other schools. How's combat training?"

The hungry look in his eyes was akin to the one in mine. He was afraid he'd be bored here, too. We'd roamed the streets together instead of going to class. In the Mansion, surrounded by countryside and fields, there wasn't anywhere to wander.

"It's everything you'd want it to be," I grinned at the tension that seemed to drain from his body. "No dirty fighting, though, kids here are nice."

"That's what I've got you for," he laughed, "I didn't know you knew how to have a clean-cut fight."

"Yeah, well," I groused, "I learn fast." I saw Logan crossing the kitchen. He seemed to be better, some of the restlessness gone. He must have just gotten back. Logan was still wearing his leather jacket, keys swinging in his hand. "Come here a minute. You want to meet the teacher?"

"Sure," Chris followed me into the kitchen.

"Logan! Was the trip successful," I debated with myself, deciding on it. I gave him a quick hug that made both guys' eyebrows raise. Logan awkwardly returned the hug with a cough though he tried to hide his shock.

"It coulda been better. It's good to see ya, Fira. Who's the new kid?"

"Name's Chris. Nice to meet ya," they stared at one another before shaking hands. I rolled my eyes, typical guy behavior, size one another up, approve, shake.

"Yeah," Logan's eyes were narrowed, "welcome to the school."

I felt Logan tense beside me, his eyes were focused on a point somewhere behind me.

"Jean!! I want to ask you a favor?" Jubilee said charging into the room right beside Jean Grey.

"Yes Jubilee, I'll take you and your friends to the mall this weekend," she capitulated, laughing at Jubilee's exuberance.

"Alright!!" Jubilee yelled, "You rock, Dr. Grey."

"Kaldraya!" Jubilee exclaimed just now seeing me. "You in for a grand day of shopping in New York's biggest mall?"

"I don't know right now, but I'll get back to you on that." I replied. Rogue and Kitty entered the room, Kitty stopped dead in her tracks as she saw Chris. Rogue seemed preoccupied, probably looking for Bobby.

"Hey, guys," I greeted all of them, "this is Chris. He's from Jersey, like me, a friend of mine. Hopefully, here to stay."

"I'll see ya round, all," Logan hadn't taken his eyes from Professor Grey, he hastened to catch up with her. Everyone shrugged and dismissed his presence, crowds weren't his forte.

"Awesome chains!" Jubilee said taking a step back and nodding approvingly at are your powers? Do you have a name yet? What are you classes?"

Chris looked a little bewildered, a feeling with which I could well relate. The first time I met Jubilee I had felt the same way. A penny turned to ash, I met his eyes grinning in expectation of his second show.

"Try not to scorch the shirt this time?"

"Eh," Chris shrugged aiming fire my way, "you could do without one."

Kitty gasped as the fire raced towards me, Jubilee grabbed Chris' arm. Both of them calmed when they realized the flames weren't going to hurt me. Rogue looked amused, but tempered her expression when Kitty shot Chris an angry look.

"Sorry," I apologized to her, "I should hae warned you. He wouldn't have hurt me, no worries."

"So, what's your nickname going to be," Jubilee asked in a low voice, it was the tone she used when talking to herself. "The name Pyro's already been taken..."

"Maybe he has one?" Rogue interjected. "I mean, he hasn't..." she sighed knowing that Jubilee was in her own world, she didn't hear any of us right now.

"Fira, that's Kaldraya, here. A lot of fire people, huh?" Jubilee stared at Chris, one hand on her hip, thoughtful look in her eyes.

"Fira?" Chris asked looking in my direction. "You don't play Final Fantasy."

"Yeah, that's me, what does Final Fantasy have to do with anything?"

"Nothing," he sighed, "I've got to get you into those games. Nice name, though."

"What about Inferno?" Jubilee asked.

"Awesome. Inferno... like major blazing fire right?" Kitty asked.

"And Dante," I added. "Perfect."

"So, Inferno, are you gonna come to the mall with us?" Jubilee asked him. "There's a store there that I think you'll like, if what you're wearing symbolizes what you like. There's a huge sword store there..." Chris and I looked at one another in excitement barely contained.

"Sword store," we both said at the same time.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Rogue, Jubilee, and Kitty had all gone off to get ready for the trip. Meanwhile, Chris and I went walking along one of the mansion's paths catching up, reminiscing.

"So, the cruise went well," I asked.

"Actually, the cruse was where I first discovered I had other 'abilities," he replied as if quoting someone. "My parents were about as thrilled as yours were."

"I'd have thought they'd be happy, they always seemed like they'd be excited with other-worldly things." His parents were the opposite of mine. Non-conservative, free-thinking, emotionally stable. They talked to one another as equals instead of child to authority. I had always admired his family and their non-conventional approach to life.

"Yeah, I guess it was one of those... so long as its someone else, kinda thing." Chris grinned ruefully, "but they didn't want it to be their son, their family."

"What happened?" It must have been so hard to be away at sea, wooden ship, fire?"

"Well. it was stormy that night, I was thinking of you, you know, and standing in the rain? You'd never have passed up that storm. It was great, you know, but the Captain had forbid people from leaving belowdecks."

I smiled at him already knowing that rule had been broken. Whenever it poured, we'd meet at a pre-arranged location and walk the town. Our clothes would be drenched, we'd be dripping water, but we loved it. Winter, summer, no matter what time of year, we'd have been outside. We'd kept a change of clothes in our lockers for the occasions.

" The ship was rocking back and forth and the rain was coming down hard as hell. A lot of the people were in their cabins trying to sleep and escape the storm, but I was staring out the window. Trust me, if I could have been on deck, I would have been there. As it turns out, the Captain put chains up so that none of the passengers could go up there."

"That must have been one hell of a storm," I sighed wistfully. "Why didn't the Captain pull port?"

I'd been to the Caribbean once before, family trip. A tour of St. Martin, St. Croix, and St. Peter, it had stormed then, too. I'd been outside dancing in the rain before my father found me and pulled me bback into the hotel. Apparently some of the island folk had taken me as a prostitute, the guide had informed my family before any official offers would have been made. I laughed at the memory, my family had been so angry.

"Private tour," Chris gave me a 'you know people' look, "money talks, right? People wanted a midnight tour of the Caribbean's haunted spots, the company had no choice in the end. Make the customers happy, right?"

"Well, sure," I replied sarcastically, "what's death matter when you get a midnight haunted tour?"

"The ship was rolling in the waves so badly people thought the ship was going to capsize. The Captain was shouting orders, men were scrambling around. That was when I felt the weirdest thing. something like a burning in my stomach. I thought maybe it was sea- sickness but when one of the tables turned to ashes. I realized that it had something to do with me. When someone in the room screamed and I saw a vase disintegrate... I knew, positively, that I was the cause."

"Oh my god! What did you do?"

"I snuck past the chains and stayed in the shadows so that none of the crew could see me from behind the glass windows. They were too busy navigating and talking on the radio to notice me, anyway. When the ship hit a wave and threatened to turn on it's back I aimed the flames toward the wave and it cut in half. I didn't know then what made the flames appear but if I hadn't kept trying then we might have died. I'm not saying that it was all me but still. it was pretty damn close."

"You do realize that you might have saved the lives of everyone on that ship?" I asked amazed that he wasn't taking the credit that was due.

"Yeah well, not everyone saw it that way." He laughed ruefully, "but anyway, it was alright by morning and I basically had control of the fire by then. Whenever I was panicked or let thoughts that scared the hell outta me loose, that's when the fire appeared. By morning, except for a few small things, I had it basically under control.

"That's amazing! I can't believe it took you only a day!" I shouldn't have been surprised, Chris' strength of will surpassed my own. When he was determined to do something nothing, and no one, stopped him.

"How long did it take you?" he asked.

"About a week," I admitted. "Though, to be fair, you got to use yours a lot more than I did. Free rein, and all that, I was in school, at home, I wasn't able to let loose like you."

"True," he agreed. "I got a lot of practice that night. Exhausting, but so much fun."

"I'll bet."

"I got back to school a few weeks ago, after all, the school was the one who agreed to let me go in the first place. I heard your sister complaining about you and a school for mutants and all. I asked her about it and..."

"Let me guess. She called me a bunch of names and told you that I was gone forever?" I looked down at the floor. Ella had always been like that. When things went her way she was an angel, but when someone got in her way... I'd seen her rip people apart without a thought to the consequences. Chris and I fought out of necessity, most of the time. Ella verbally abused people into submission uncaring of those she destroyed in the process.

She was popular, anyone not in her social group was considered prey to them. While Chris and I had done our fair share of damage, we didn't intentionally hurt those weaker than us. I, at least, tried to protect those people, stood up for them, accepted money from them to do it, sometimes, but after nearly breaking my ribs-- payment was welcome.

"I found the address, she wouldn't talk to me," he paused, "she didn't associate with people like me in the first place. It was beneath her, she said. I was a friend of yours, the things she said about you..."

There was fury in his blue eyes, I was almost glad Ella was my sister, and a girl, because otherwise Chris might have killed her. He was fiercely protective of his friends, any slight could cause him to unleash a torrent of rage upon them. ...do you see why we get along so well?

"How did you come to incinerate that room?"

"I didn't _incinerate_ anything."

"Draya... the room was boarded up. I looked through the window... there was ash on the floor from a desk. Chairs were scorched. There were burned pages of books lying around. Was there a class in session when you levelled the room?"

"No, there wasn't anyone in the room," I paused, "I mean, there was me, three guys, and a teacher. The guys didn't want a _mutant_ in their school so they were going to do something about it. The cornered me in the room, I defended myself."

"Which teacher?"

"Not important," I replied evasively, I didn't want Chris to go looking for him. "They wouldn't stop and the teacher wasn't stopping them. You see, my power then were based on how well I kept anger under control. I had been doing that all week and I just. lost it. It wasn't funny then, but I made them see what they thought I was, what they feared." I laughed at the memory.

I couldn't remember much aside from the anger, the fear of having three guys slam the door behind them. One of them had flung me into a wall, another had picked up a chair. I'd looked to the teacher for help, but he, too, was glaring at me as if the guys were doing him a favor. Before I could go for my weapon the rage built, I felt my hands burn, next thing I knew I was sitting in the principle's office.

None of the guys, or the teacher, had been hurt. Someone had pulled a fire alarm, Chris' account of the damage was the first honest telling I'd heard. I'm surprised I didn't hurt them, that they weren't dead, but at least I knew I had a sense of self-preservation despite the hatred aimed towards them.

"What happened to you? Why did you leave school?"

"I kept getting into fights with some of the jock-boys who thought it was funny to bloody me up." His eyes turned the color of blue ice, "they didn't do that for long. Trust me. So my parents called Xavier and enrolled me in the school. I was supposed to have gotten here earlier but I wanted to go and wander a little bit before."

"No one noticed?"

Chris shrugged, "my parents didn't want to make the trip. They figured I'd get here eventually, I guess. Besides, they're always travelling, I had all of Jersey and New York to explore."

"Lucky," I told him about my hasty escape. He cracked his knuckles when I told him about the bar-fight, but seemed appeased when I told him Logan had stepped in. I was more than capable of handling myself in a fight, but I was a girl to him. You watch out for the girls, he'd always had that mindset. I was just as reckless, rash, and angry as he was, but he put my safety first because I was a female. It was annoying at times, but endearing at the same time. "Did you bring your motorcycle?"

"Of course," he looked offended that I even had to ask. "Did you know that I had the motorcycle painted before I left?"

"No, I didn't know that. What color? Where do you keep it?"

"I put it in the Auto-Room, you'll see. Want to take a look?"

" Yeah, lets go." I loved his bike. He'd only gotten it a year ago, but it made skipping school so much more convenient. I don't know how many jobs Chris had taken to save money for the bike, but he considered it a good investment.

"You like it here?" he asked.

"Yeah," I smiled back, "I think I do."

"Good," Chris shared a look with me, I knew what it meant. He hadn't come here because of his parent's decree, he'd wanted to be sure I was okay. It was nice to have friends, I admitted to myself. He may look like some hell-raising bad-ass, but he could be nice when it suited him. It was also comforting to know I had an escape should I change my mind. Top of Form

Bottom of Form


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Jeans car was packed by the time Saturday came around. Scott had agreed to go, his car, too, was filled. Chris and I were given permission to use his bike, there wasn't any room in the cars for us, anyway. He, Jon, and Logan were engrossed in a conversation about motorcycles, fast cars, and the parts for it when I reached the rec room. All three of them were heatedly debating, I laughed quietly as I listened, I hadn't the slightest clue as to what anything they said meant. My auto expertise tapped out after changing a tire and even that would be rusty, I hadn't changed a tire in years.

We followed Jean's car, but Chris assured me that if we had gotten lost he knew where the mall was. It was awesome, the sense of freedom was absolutely thrilling. Cars zoomed around us and the wind blew my hair back away from my face. I kept my arms locked around his waist, his bike had plenty of speed in it, we passed cars at an alarming rate. Chris didn't seem overly concerned with being pulled over, he'd have probably raced the cops if the situation presented itself. He handled the bike well, as if were part of him.

Chris had changed so now he looked even more daunting then he had the day before. He wore a black shirt with long transparent sleeves and black eight-pocket pants with a long chain down the left side. Toward the bottom there was a small dagger type emblem with rage-filled yellow eyes behind it. His leather jacket was a near match of mine, we'd bought ours at a vintage shop near the high-school. I was wearing black jeans with a shorter chain and a short sleeved, fishnet, black shirt in case it was hot at the mall, my leather jacket protected me against the cold on the bike. I had outlined my eyes in black eye shadow and black mascara. It made them look darker and I happy with the result.

The mall was huge, bigger than any I'd ever seen before. It was quite popular, too, because there was hardly any room to park. Chris padlocked and chained the bike to the stands they had reserved. I threw a small green flame at it so that anyone who tried to pick the lock would be scalded. It was just an extra precaution but one that I had used before.

Inside, they had decorated it to look like a rainforest type atmosphere. Spindly trees grew nearly to the ceiling and around the escalator there was a pond of water with real fish in it. Chris, Bobby, Pyro, Rogue, and I went into a movie/game/music store. While the guys went through the hundreds of video games that were on display, Rogue and I went to check out the music.

Neither of us talked very much, Rogue didn't speak much in general. She only added her views to something when she wanted to. We got along well because I didn't press her for information or ask try to make pointless small talk. We liked a few of the same bands, I bought a few CD's promising to burn a copy for her when we got to the Mansion. Chris had a warrior role-playing game and Bobby had a bunch of new controllers for the Game-Cube.

Jubilee and Kitty met up with us outside and they were breathless from talking about some kind of clothes sale down the corridor. Bobby and Pyro rolled their eyes and said that they'd catch up with us later, they were going to the food-court. We were going to go with them, I wasn't really interested in shopping for clothes at the moment, but the store on the bottom floor caught my attention. I tapped Chris on the shoulder and pointed to the store.

"Holy shit!" was all he managed to get say.

"We'll be right back..." I said over my shoulder.

It was an all out race to get to the front doors. It was close, but he beat me by a few paces and we were both weak from laughing to open the door for a minute. As soon as we did it was like stepping into another world. Behind the counter there were glass cabinets with daggers and knives propped up on wooden holders. There were all kinds of weapons, throwing stars, battle-axes, lead chains, and loads of swords. We walked towards the back of the store so that we would have could start there and work our way to the front of then.

I stared at the assortment of swords they had. There were broadswords to die for and Chris was fascinated with the katana's. He had always been interested in Japan and especially their weapons, I was more based towards Europe. The Scottish and English, Middle Ages and their wars were what interested me the most.

The Danger Room was one thing, I'd practiced with several weapons within the safety of the room, but real-life and reality was another matter entirely. I had a few daggers, my knives, but there was always room for improvement with my collection.

"Can I help you with something?" a woman behind the counter asked.

"No, we're just looking, but thank you." I replied.

"Alright, just be careful of what you touch, the blades are sharp." She warned.

I smiled, I could already tell by the way they were so polished and some of them were really steel forged. They were much too expensive to think about buying right now. The cheapest one was $200 and that was without any ornamentation.

The daggers and knives were a different story, though. There was one that I knew I would buy. The blade of the switchblade was made of steel, $35 for it. Expensive for a blade, but well worth it if price had anything to do with quality. Chris was eyeing one that was only 5 dollars more.

The one I liked had a vine marking that ran along the sides of the blade and tapered off at the tip. The hilt was smooth, ribbed for a good grip, this was no ornamental weapon.

"Hey Draya, check this out," he called. The blade he wanted suited him perfectly. It had a skull at the end of the hilt and its eyes were red. The blade was curved in several places to make it appear like it was a living flame. His was more of a show-case weapon, but it'd be fun to mock-spar with when we got the chance. I knew he had two real ones somewhere on him, hidden, what would it hurt to own a decorative one?

"These are real?" Chris asked, motioning toward our weapons, "they won't break if we use them once?"

"I can't condone your use of them, but off course my weapons are real," she said as if insulted. I stifled a laugh at the incredulous look on her face. We paid and then left, I made a mental note to remember that store for when I had more cash to be spent as freely.

"Guys! Wasup?" Jubilee yelled running up to us. "What did you guys buy?"

"We got knives. We'll show you when we get back to the School. I don't know what they'll do here if someone sees them. What did you get?" I asked staring at the pile of bags that she was carrying.

"They had a great sale! You wouldn't believe how inexpensive some of this stuff was. I did all my school shopping here! I'll show you back at the School too, you can borrow some if you want," she offered.

"Yeah, um, thanks." I stammered. I felt Chris' look without having to see it. I 'accidentally' elbowed him. He retaliated by leaning a little too far to the right. Just enough so that I lost my balance a little. I smiled, oh yeah, I'd get him back for that. But just not right yet...

"Where's Kitty and Rogue?" Jubilee asked.

"I dunno. I thought they were with you," Chris said. "Why don't we try the food-court? That's where Bobby and Jon went."

"Great! I'm starving!" Jubilee ran to catch the elevator, she waved as the doors closed.

"You still walk around armed," Chris asked pressing the elevator's up button,

"Do you breathe?" I showed him where a knife hung inside my boot, my necklace that doubled as a short knife when released, and a different switchblade in the pocket of my jacket. "What about you?"

He shrugged his jacket off, "put this on, you'll see."

I traded coats with him, one of the sleeves was heavier than the other. I reached my hand inside, putting the jacket on. He had rigged a knife along the fabric on his wrist, if he reached in with his thumb he could have a knife in his hand within seconds. There was another blade in the pocket, I was pretty sure he had some other weapon in his boot, too.

We exchanged grim smiles before stepping into the elevator. It had been a lesson we'd learned fast, go nowhere unarmed. People had tried to ambush us, corner us, and after the first and second beating we'd taken...

"Gotta love high-school, huh?" I remarked.

"Hell yes," Chris laughed, "fun times, weren't they?"

"Pointlessly fun, yeah." It was amazing we'd gotten through three and a half years without killing anyone.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

They were sitting at the second table in the court. Bobby was sitting with his arm around Rogue's shoulders and Kitty was talking to Jon who was eating a bunch of fries. Jubilee was carrying a tray laden with two hot dogs, a side of fries, some sort of pastry, and a cinnamon roll that she handed to Bobby.

"Hey!" Rogue greeted us, "did you get all your shopping done?"

"Did I ever," Jubilee said quickly sitting in a nearby chair. "You're going to love some of these shirts I got, Rogue."

"I'm going to get something to eat, anyone else want anything?"

I stared at the table, every food group, junk food, and drink was accounted for. I laughed as the five of them glanced at me with similar expressions. I guess not, then.

"I'll come with you. I haven't ate anything since early this morning." Chris walked up with me to one of the shorter lines. We bought soda's and as we paid I heard a very familiar voice.

"Draya?! What are _you_ doing here?"

"Oh shit..." Chris muttered glaring in the direction of the voice, "It's your sister."

I faced her reluctantly, hoping that she had sense enough not to make a scene in the midst of a crowded mall. She would, there was no doubt in my mind, her friends were sitting at a table close by. There was a chance for attention, elevated popularity, a scene was forthcoming.

"Hello Ella," I said calmly bracing myself. Her eyes had narrowed maliciously, she glanced at her table of friends, back at me. I could see the wheels turning in her head, she'd done this often enough before.

"You want to ruin my life, don't you!" she said near hysteria. Yup, she could turn the hysterics on and off like a water tap. "The one day that I decided to take off from school..."

"What's up," a boy came up and slung his arm around her waist.

"Ray," Chris snarled. He was tensed and his eyes were blazing dangerously with concealed anger. I stared at the two of them too shocked to be angry. Ray Layarteb was my sisters boyfriend? When had that happened?

"You," Ray retorted moving closer towards Chris. "What, did they let you out of your cages today?"

Ella stayed in the back with her hand on her hip looking smug. She was wearing a light pink, low cut, sweater and a short jean skirt. Her eyes met mine, I could read triumph, how petty of her to be seeing the one guy I'd dated in high-school. It made me want to rip her throat out. She was using another person, but she didn't know Ray was probably using her, too. I'd never understand how her clique worked. None of them were happy, they caused misery to themselves and others, dated people they couldn't stand. All of it was to appear popular. Who could be the best bitch? Who could find, and date, the bigger jerk? What was the point in it?

"My fight," Chris warned me as I stepped forward.

"Mutant. It's brave of you to show your face in public." I saw people looking at us, all it had taken was the word mutant to be bandied about, it drew people like flies to honey.

Ray lunged, but Chris was ready. He countered the punch and returned a crushing blow to Ray's stomach. Raydoubled over gasping for breath, and I noticed that Chris' hand was dripping blood from his knuckles.

This wasn't a fight, Ray had no chance of winning. Chris was muscled, lean, well-versed in fighting and dirty moves. Ray, on the other hand, was thin, mean, yes, but he had no talent to back his veneer of condescension. He liked to pick on women, like Ella, using his words to cause the most damage.

Ray straightened and, with no warning, tackled Chris into the opposite wall with enough force to do some real damage. I heard something that sounded like a crunch, but when Chris brought his knee up into Ray's chest and punched him in the jaw, I figured that he was alright. Before Ray went down, he brought his fist up and got Chris on the chin.

"Son of a bitch," Chris swore, wiping a line of blood from his face. The ring that Ray wore had torn a gash under his mouth. Chris kicked him in the ribs, straddled him and rammed his fist into Ray's face. Once, twice, I decided to intervene. Chris wouldn't be stopping anytime soon, he cursed Ray, shook him, I grabbed his shoulder and pulled him off.

Ray was sporting a black eye, his cheek was swollen, and his lip was split. Chris was bleeding from the cut on his mouth, but he was shaking with anger. I'd never seen him so angry, what had Ray done to him? I'd seen Chris fight real enemies with less blood-lust.

"Ohmigod!" Ella screeched dramatically. "What did you do to him! You tore him apart!"

She rushed over as Ray glared at her, not liking her unfavorable remarks. When she deducted that he was fine and there would be no lasting damage, her whole demeanor changed. "How could you be beaten by a mutant?!"

"Mutant had nothing to do with it," Chris laughed. "Anyone could have beaten that pathetic excuse for a man." Ray looked like he was going to attack again, but when he got to his feet he winced and staggered a little. I guess that was enough to change his mind. Ella covered her face, her plan wasn't going as she'd like it to.

"I'll get you back for this," Ray warned, but his words lacked real meaning. With his black eye and rasping voice, we could hardly understand what he was saying. Ella moved closer to us, though I noticed she stayed behind Ray.

"Bring it," Chris threw a line of fire toward him, Ray squeaked and threw himself to the floor.

"Freak!" Ella screamed, enraged, as she ran up to Chris and smacked him in the face. I grabbed her befor she could get away, I was astounded by how calm I remained. It was a good thing, for her, because if I hadn't worked on my anger problems she'd have been burned.

"Leave," I warned her, "before I kill you." I stared directly into her eyes letting her see the darkness, the hate, the fact that I didn't care if she lived or died.

"You wouldn't--" there was doubt in her words.

"Want to take that chance?" I spun her around and pushed her toward the table where her friends were watching, wide-eyed, terrified. Ella fell to the floor on her knees with a cry of pain and shock.

Chris stared at me as I laughed. Coldly, spitefully. I could feel the anger abate, this wasn't fueled by anything, it was real. I hated my sister, there was no love lost between us. She hated me just as much.

She got to her feet and opened her mouth as if to let loose another bout of cursing.

"Dont," I forced the rage into my hand, a green ball of fire appeared. The flame was larger than any I'd conjured before, I could feel the heat on my face.

"Fuck you, Kaldraya," she hissed. She and her friends gathered their things and vacated the room. Ray scrabbled backward using the trash can to stand,

"You wanna go back?" I asked.

"Sure why not?" he replied searching my face.

As we walked I noticed that was limping slightly, it was hardly discernable, but it was still there. You couldn't tell he was in any pain by the expression on his face, but I could feel him favoring his leg.

"You okay?".

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be," he said looking at me sideways.

"When you were fighting, I heard a bone or something break," I explained.

"Oh, you mean when he shoved me into the wall?" he held up his necklace that was a sword with Elvish writing engraved on the blade. The chain was broken and he had to put the sword into his pocket. That would explain the crunching sound... his necklace broke.

"Your hand and face?"

"Minor scratches," he replied, "c'mon, we've had worse happen."

Chris had a point there. Not counting the fights in school, we'd done more damage to one another when we practiced knife-fighting. We had learned the basics together, refined our skills against the other, went through a lot of blood-soaked towels amidst laughter and congratulations to the winner.

"You kicked ass, man," Pyro exclaimed once we sat down. He and Chris did the guy handshake, I fought not to laugh as I downed some of my soda.

"Who were those people," Jubilee asked handing us our bags.

"They were a few kids from school." I didn't want them to know about Ella. Chris looked at me strangely but he refrained from correcting me.

"That girl didn't seem to like you much," Kitty said.

"Yeah, I don't like her, either," the conversation drifted around the fight, Chris' skill, things they'd bought. We left shortly thereafter, I didn't see Ella anywhere when we left the mall. It was better that way, I'd probably get a call later from my parents. There wasn't much they could do, though Ella might not tell them, she was supposed to have been in school.

* * *

Back at the mansion, I noticed that Chris was limping more pronounced then before. When he went up the stairs his breath came in harsh gasps and his arm went instinctively to his ribs. I stood in front of him at the top of the stone stairs refusing to let him past.

"What happened to you? You lied, didn't you... when you said that it was just your necklace that broke."

"No, I didn't lie," he didn't meet my eyes, his gaze was somewhere to the left of my face. "It's just a bruise. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah right. C'mon, let me see, if you're seriously injured..." I let the question trail off.

"I'll strip for you anytime," he grinned, "all you had to do was ask."

"Chris, I'm serious."

"So am I," he sobered, "it's fine, Draya, really. Remember when--"

"You fractured your wrist? Broke two fingers? Had to get stitches, numerous times, yea, I remember."

"You didn't let me help when Ella pushed you on the stairs and you fell down the stairwell..."

"Yeah, well, I had her up against the lockers. She begged mercy in front of all her friends," I smiled in memory. "This is different, I didn't break anything."

"I haven't." We went through the doorway, I didn't want to call for Jean, because that would be betraying him, but if we happened to run into her...

"What happened to you, kid?" Logan asked when he saw us. "You were fighting weren't you."

"Unavoidable," I met the suspicion in his eyes without flinching, "self-defense, that's all."

"You didn't get caught?" he wondered.

"The security there was kind of..."

"Non-existent." Chris finished for me.

"You bruise your ribs or something?"

Chris looked exasperated, but this time he couldn't evade the question. Logan had been in more fights then our ages put together, and he had probably been injured in every way possible. He knew what he was talking about.

"Yeah, you could say that." Chris admitted.

"Go and find Jean. She'll help you out." Logan cut Chris off before he could speak, "go, rib injuries get worse over time, not better, you sure you didn't fracture them?"

"Er, no, I've been hurt before. Its no big deal."

"Jean, go," Logan moved his head in the direction of the infirmary. Chris sighed in defeat.

"And you're okay, kid," he asked me, reverting to what he called me when we had first met.

"I'm fine, thanks." Logan looked at me for a minute as if going over what I said.

"Alright then. Get him to Jean, alright? And I'm supposed to tell you not to fight outside of the School."

"But you wouldn't mean it," I smiled, "sometimes fights find you, sometimes they're necessary, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah," he snorted as he lit a cigar.

"So, I guess I'm going to find Jean." Chris sighed, but this time when he started walking again his eyes darkened with the pain he was to masculine to admit to. I could relate, walk it off, ignore it, pain would go away eventually. It wasn't me this time, it was him, and I could make sure he was patched up.

"Weren't you and Ray pretty good friends? What happened?" I had been wanting to ask the question since the fight.

"We were never 'friends.' I put up with him because he was your boyfriend," he glared at me, "I told you he was an asshole, you didn't want to listen to me."

"Yeah, well, I learned, didn't I? Live and learn, right?"

"I should have butchered him," Chris muttered through gritted teeth.

I tried not to think about that time in my life. I had thought he was attractive, I liked him, he cheated on me, advertised it to the school. Classic story. I'd been blind and dumb then, I had grown up a lot since then. Chris had warned me about him, tried to protect me, but I hadn't been of a mind to listen to his advice. When I went to find him, to settle things, I'd found Chris ramming his face into a parked car in the parking lot.

"Meh," I shrugged, "you took care of it. I'm really sorry about Ella, what she did, thanks for not, um, tearing her arm off."

"She's a girl," Chris put his arm around my shoulder, "and you took care of her."

Friendship was a wonderful thing, I'd known Chris about eight years now. He'd never once let me down, left me to stand on my own. I, in turn, had always tried to have his back, to watch out for him like he did for me. We had been different people, once upon a time, when we'd curl up and watch movies together, plan trips to Europe and Japan. I had done his English and History homework, he'd done my Algebra and Biology papers. We considered a difficult day to be test day when we'd labor to pass answers to one another without the teacher knowing.

The world had seemed like a different place then. Once middle-school was over, high-school started, we got darker, cynical. We changed together, which was something, despite our slight differences. A difficult day was being outnumbered, having earned a reputation for not backing down, for not giving in. A school based on dominance and control, an asian girl and a caucasion guy, they had thought us to be easy prey.

He became taller that summer, muscled, more masculine while I had filled in, grew curves, lost weight. I know we both appreciated the changes, though there had never been anything sexual between us. Chris had known me before gender was differentiated. Friendship, a bond that couldn't be broken, why tamper with it because females and males were different?

I watched him, jaw clenched, eyes determined. I could see the lethality playing in my mind as he knelt over Ray punching him in the face, raising him by his shirt, eyes bright with feverish rage. Chris had changed a lot, but I saw him, again, eyes snapping with fury as Ella slapped him. He hadn't moved a muscle, hadn't reached for her, his ideals were still in place. He'd never hit a girl unless pushed to the absolute edge.

I saw him beating Ray, slamming his face into the red parked car in the lot demanding he apologize to me. His eyes had met mine that day, pain in the frosty-blue depths, he had hurt for me. I pulled his arm more firmly across my shoulders, friends, right, for how long?


	15. NEW CHAPTER 15

Chapter 15

Authors Note: I hadn't realized that two of the Chapters were the same! Oh wow. So no one ever read this chapter? I could kick myself for that! Eesh!

Authors Note 2: I'm glad that those who've read the story so far liked it! To answer one of the questions. . . Logan talks so much to Kaldraya, I hope because he has some things in common with her. I tried to make it so that he would see some of himself in her and therefore start the friendship that in the second story might turn out to help him. I loved Wolverine in both the show, the movie, and the comics. I hated how he was always alone, so I wanted to try and make that better here.

Chris wasn't out of the ward yet and it was about eight o'clock. He'd told me to go when Jean prepared a table to examine his injuries. I objected, but Jean had insisted, on his behalf, because no doctor, or patient, wanted an audience for medical procedures. I'd made him promise to find me after and complied with their wishes.

I wanted to do something, but the television was taken, the game systems had a line of people waiting on the sofas and the floor. It would be about an hour before I even got close to a game controller.

Going to the library wasn't very appealing, I wasn't in the mood to just sit and read. The only other option was the Danger Room. As I thought about it, the better the idea formulated in my mind.

The silver doors flashed open as soon as I got within a few feet. No one else was in the room, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I studied the panel on the glass room. There were so many options to pick from. Snow, rain, sun, sleet, hail, desert storm. . . the list went on and on. Then in another bold category there was terrain to choose from. Mountains, desert, plains, field, glacier, city. If I was going to fight something I would rather start off on level ground.

The computer screen blinked red and it had a list of weapons. I didn't have to browse through this one, I knew what I wanted to use. I liked that the computer would randomly put a weapon in the course every few minutes if I wanted it. Of course, if I somehow lost the knives it would be nice to have a small arsenal at my disposal.

I opened the door to the room after reading the synopsis of the scenario. I was supposed to protect the girl in the middle of the room from any assailants. That was fine by me, I could hurt them, they could hurt me, the girl wouldn't fight. First sign of blood and the room would shut down.

As three of them swarmed to the girl, I should have set the difficulty to intermediate. This was going to be more difficult than I'd imagined. I was pretty good with my knives, the men disappeared after I cut, or stabbed, them once. I worked in a small circle around the girl, she started a bright green color. As I killed the twelfth guy she was dull green.

Oops, she'd taken some damage. The men came in increments of three or four. At around twenty-three I was perspiring, exhausted, and the girl was orange. I assumed when she got to be red the simulation would end. There were various weapons lying around the room, none of which I had been able to get to.

My arms were bruised, my ribs hurt, my back throbbed from where one of them had kicked me. The men had altered and learned to block some of my attacks. Like Chris said, though, I fought dirty. One-hit kills, or I tried for them, some of the men had blocked my arm with bruising force.

"Damnit," I cursed. The girl hadn't turned just turned red. She cried heartbreakingly, screamed so shrilly that my skin broke out in goosebumps, and then disappeared with a tragic look in my direction. I was trying to breathe, one of the bastards had gotten a good kick to my stomach. I was sprawled against the wall, both knives in front of me on the ground, trying not to vomit.

"So, you figured out how that works." Logan stated from the doorway.

"Yeah," I gasped, "I over-exaggerated my ability a little bit."

"Took about thirty of them out," he grinned, "not bad."

"I got lucky," I laughed, regretting it immediately. I wasn't going to try to move yet, my stomach threatned to release its contents at the thought. "And it was more like twenty-five."

Logan sat with his back braced against the doorframe. "You need to see Jean?"

"Nope," I focused on taking long, deep breaths, "I'm going to try again in a few minutes."

"Stay there," Logan shrugged out of his jacket.

"You heading out?" I asked hoping that he would say no. I had hardly seen him since his return and he was one of the few people at the school that I had long conversations with. The others were great, some of them were good friends, but with Chris and Logan I felt connected.

"Going to the Canadian Rockies," he stepped over to the control panel, "Chuck's given me a lead I want to follow."

The girl reappeared, Logan stood braced in front of me, claws extended. "You wanted to see me fight, you said?"

I watched, awe-struck, as Logan took out one guy after the other. He must have raised the skill level, men filled the room, never ceasing. Logan moved swiftly between them as if dancing, he moved confidently, lethally.

He blocked attacks, parried, his claws flashed faster than I could track. He growled every now and then as one of the men hit him before quickly dispatching them. It was amazing. It seemed that he moved without thinking, instinct taking over, killing without thinking. His body and mind were in sync with one another, he didn't plan an attack like I tried, he threw himself into the fray and decimated all of them.

I stood up, no nausea, clear-headed, good, I was back on track. My body was a riot of pain, but that was dulling as I watched him. If I was half as good one day I'd be happy.

"Gonna stand there all night?" Logan quirked a brow at me smiling as he beheaded one of the men.

I grabbed my knives and stood back to back with him. I let my mind relax working with reflexes and surety trying to be as fluid as he was. Stab on in the throat, catch one in the stomach, turn to my left, slash one across the chest, right, knock his legs out from under him, knife in the heart.

I felt good, alive again, someday I'd have to see a psychologist and figure out why the only time I felt alive was when I was fighting. For now, it made me feel at peace, I didnt' want to mess with it.

I remembered the mall, I forced all the rage into my hands. The flames were bright green, emerald, I hurled them at the two lines of men that appeared in front of me. I was aware of Logan's position, I didn't want to catch him in the cross-fire. He hadn't moved, trusting me to watch his back, I didn't know whether to be flattered or worried for him.

I threw the flames, caught my breath as the men disappeared. Damn. Maybe I'd talk to the psychologist about my anger issues, too. Whatever, it worked for me, I'd worry about that later, as well.

I don't know how long we were there, but when it ended, sucessfully, I collapsed to my knees and Logan wiped his face free of perspiration and blood. He had tampered with the controls, I, too, had bled a few times, but I healed with a flash of green.

I blushed as I took stock of my position. I dropped my knives and slid back against the wall. Logan seemed unaware of the source to my embarassment.

"Nice job," he remarked throwing me a water bottle from inside his jacket.

"Thanks, you were... astounding. Incredible, I've never seen anyone fight that way before. Jesus," I shook my head, "and you're not even tired."

"You know why?"

"No, why?" I had the feeling I was walking into a trap, but his eyes were serious. Golden, beautiful, dangerous, still shining with the adrenaline brought on by a hundred men all trying to kill him.

"I sleep and eat well," he chuckled. "Try it sometime."

"Yeah, yeah," I repeated his earlier dismissal, "you heading out now?"

It was appreciation of the male form, that was all, I told myself while watching him shrug into his jacket. How could I not respond to all that power, masculinity, capability. _One_ of those things could lead to the falling of a girl, combine all three and what should I have expected? I had always been attracted to the bad boys. Logan wasn't a boy, he was also unattainable, I could see the flashing warning signs in my head.

"Take care of yourself, Fira," he said gruffly. His eyes saw too much, I knew then that he was aware of how I felt. I wasn't mortified, why bother hiding it? It was a natural reaction, one he might not share, but I'd get over it, we'd still be friends, the world would still turn. It didn't hurt, I accepted it, I'd wanted movie-stars, didn't mean I was going to go after them.

"You too, I'll see you when you get back." I got shakily to my feet. "Be careful out there, okay?"

"What fun is that," he didn't look surprised when I hugged him goodbye. He looked as if he were going to say something, but he shook his head looking at me with an unreadable expression. Was that regret in his eyes? No, I was fooling myself. He patted me on the back roughly, I laughed at the 'guy hug,' yeah, I knew.

I watched him walk out of the room with a twinge of... something. Mixed with that was contentment, between Logan and Chris I had found a family. I gave in to the demands of my body, smiling despite the emotins warring in my mind. The wall was cool against my back, it felt good to sit, relax, think in privacy and peace. It was morning before I opened my eyes again.

* * *

"Draya?" I awoke to Chris staring down at me.

"Shit!" I reached for my knife, it wasn't under my pillow, I wasn't in my bedroom. "What the hell?"

"Logan told me you might be here," he gave me a minute to adjust myself to my surroundings. How the-- oh, I'd fallen asleep, I was in the Danger Room. Chris offered me a hand, I took it and let him haul me to my feet.

Parts of my body were asleep, other parts hurt like hell. Chris watched amused as I cursed, stretched, tried to get my legs to hold me and move where I wanted them to.

"Rough night?"

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes, "damn, this hurts."

"Shower," he said simply.

"Did you say Logan told you I'd be here?"

"Yep, I was heading up to my room, he said that I'd find you here if you weren't anywhere else. He was going somewhere, I think. You have a thing for him?"

"No," I retorted, "he's my teacher."

"Cause that's stopped you before," Chris laughed wickedly catching me around the waist as I reached for a wall. My list of rules was getting longer. Stretch before working out, pay attention to my level of exhaustion, stretch after working out, shower immediately, don't fall asleep on the floor.

"What time is it," I wasn't wearing a watch, how long had I been asleep on the floor? I was glad it had been Chris to wake me up and not a class.

"Seven," he replied handing me my knives.

"Damnit," I took the elevator with Chris, I didn't have time for the stairs. "I didn't finish my paper."

"Sunday," he said showing me his watch, I read the time, date, and day. "No classes today."

"Oh," I felt idiotic, "right. How are you feeling?"

The cut on his face was a lot better and his hand was healing. He didn't have a wrap on it or anything, he'd never wanted to wear band-aids. Neither did I, for that matter, we both hated them.

"Never better," he held the elevator doors open for me, "I told you I was fine."

"Sure you were," I shot him a droll look, "I'm glad you aren't limping anymore."

"I was never limping, you are, though."

"I'm doing no such thing, I'm tired, that's all."

"Shower," Chris opened the bathroom door, "I'm going to eat something."

"Save me some pancakes?"

"Hurry up and maybe they'll be some left," he chucked as the door closed behind me. I could feel the steam from someone's shower dissolve on my skin. The shower was going to be amazing, heat, warmth, I needed to wake up.

Dressed in black goth pants, a red corset, and fishnet hand ties of the same color I went to check on the pancakes. I was starving, I hadn't had anything to eat the other day except for a couple of sodas and a sandwich.

The kitchen was relatively empty, only a few were seated around the table. Most were around the television playing the new game. A lot of the kids had gone home early, summer was coming, there were only a few days left of classes.

I ate a few pieces of toast, three pieces of bacon, and a link of sausage. I grabbed an apple, never let it be said that I don't eat, and went for my morning cigarette.

"Fira!" Jubilee called, "you in for a round of basketball?"

"Er-- no thanks," I replied, "sports, not my thing." Fighting was one thing, athletics another. Gym class was not my forte, I couldn't dribble, shoot a puck, serve a volleyball, the only thing I was relatively good at was badminton.

Chris held out a plate as I finished my cigarette, two pancakes were on the plate. I groaned in my head, my stomach couldn't take much more food, but I ate them knowing that he'd saved them for me, per my request.

"You, basketball," he laughed, "want to try out the new knives later?"

"Sure," I replied enthusiastically, "think you can take me?"

"I've never had a problem kicking your ass," Jean turned slightly at that remark but it was an old conversation to us.

"Yeah, if I had my hands tied behind my back maybe." I grinned, "you might have a slim chance, then."

"Hey, Jean? Chris?" Cyclops came into the room. "I want to talk to you about something."

Uh-oh, an authoritative aura surrounded him, though it may have been his clothes. He wore a light blue shirt, khaki pants, brown loafters. Compared to the black, silver, and leather between Chris and I, we seemed out of place.

"What's the matter," Jean asked kissing him good morning.

"Oh, hi, Kaldraya," he said surprised to see me.

"Hey," I replied cheerfully, "what's up?"

"I just wanted to bring up the matter of Chris' attire..." he started staring at me. "Er- of the dress code at school."

"What's the matter with my clothes," Chris asked eyes narrowing a little.

"Nothings wrong with them. They're just a little. . . inappropriate." He finished.

"Inappropriate?" I repeated incredulously, what was wrong with them? I looked at Chris' black dragon shirt, it was tame compared to the others I'd seen in school. His pants had no picture on them, but he had a chain attached from the belt loops.

"Yes, all the skulls and swords. I think they might be sending a bad message to the other kids."

"Well they're going to hate it when he finds out about the daggers, isn't he." Chris asked in a stage whisper. I saw Jean's lips twitch but she wisely kept silent and didn't let the laughter escape.

"And Kaldraya, aren't your clothes a little... provocative? " he paused, "you have daggers?"

"Knives, really, Chris and I bought them at the mall yesterday." I replied showing him.

"Are they real?"

"Mirror finished, sharpened, and sharp enough to cleave a rock in two," Chris handled the knife with dexterity and talent treating it as though it were precious. One had to respect dangerous weapons, especially when those weapons had saved our asses at some point in our lives.

"Maybe not a rock," I continued loving the look on his face, "but a thick piece of wood definitely, either that or bone."

We shouldn't have been teasing one of our Professors, but the rapidly changing expressions on his face made it worth it. Indignation, disapproval, censure, curiousity, it was fascinating.

"Besides, these are the only type of clothes that I have," Chris stated before Scott could say anything else.

"You were at a mall," Scott pointed out, "Your bike's in the garage, you have enough time to go and buy new clothes."

"You mean like yours?" Chris asked lightly. This time I heard a small muffled sound come from Jean. She looked amazed at Chris' defiance, but amused at Scott.

"Yes, exactly," he continued missing the playful sarcasm. "And, Draya, jeans, shirts, I've seen you wear them."

"But-"

"Oh leave them alone, Scott." Jean admonished softly, "they're not hurting anyone, nor have they caused any trouble."

"Yes, but. . ."

"Thank you, Dr. Grey," I interrupted before he could say anything else, "you're awesome."

"You be careful, both of you," she sent a pointed look to the knives we were holding, "We don't need a second trip here today."

"Knives! On school property! They aren't hurting anyone--"

We left her and Scott to talk quietly, but before Chris closed the door I saw her go over and kiss him again. I smiled, she'd distract him, I'd try to lay off the corsets and fishnets in the future. I liked it here, and he was right, I did have other clothes.

I didn't have anything to prove to anyone, my style was my own, but I could tone it down and still be me. I liked Scott, in a way, he was clean-cut, a good guy, like us now. We were X-men, as the kids put it. Family, I hadn't had much luck in getting along with my real family, but there was a chance here.

I'd be glad to take it. I laughed as Chris tackled me to the ground. It hurt, but not as much as my body had in the morning. We wrestled for awhile before going for the knives. It was like old times, practicing in an abandoned parking lot, away from the cops and our parents.

He seemed content, too, which I was glad to see. Some of the hostility and anger had faded in the few short days he'd been here. He held his arm behind his back and made a 'bring it on' motion with his free hand.

I rolled my eyes thrusting my knife at him. He moved quickly out of reach, this was all play today. I wasn't trying to hurt him, nor was he going for blood.

Who would have guessed that running away from home would bring me to a new one? I missed Logan, I hope he finds what he's looking for. I'd like to see some of the feral restlessness leave him, too, though I doubt it. He's the Wolverine, untameable, free-spirited, no one would tie him down.

Yes, I still like him, but I like Chris, too. There's a difference between the two, but, as I've said, I feel connected to both of them. Whereas there might be chance somewhere with Chris, there isn't with Logan, and I'm okay with all of it.

I have a purpose, I'm training, doing something with my life. I'm not going to ask for more... at least not yet. I'm... I almost dare to say it... happy. Xavier's given me something immeasurable, priceless, he's given me somewhere to belong. Somewhere to call home, people to love and be protected by, a good education, everything I wanted 'once upon a time.'

And, hey, maybe we'll get to save the world one day.

One can only hope.


End file.
